Coffee Run
by I-AM-SiriusLOCKED
Summary: Eva works at a fancy coffee shop round the corner from New York's Avengers Tower, meaning she gets a lot of funny customers - and that the novelty's worn off. But, a day or so after the events in Sokovia, it's a new guy's turn to do the Earth's Mightiest Heroes' coffee run, and this one's different in more than just appearance. [Cover art by the lovely electricgale]
1. Chapter 1: Vision

_"Caffeine- the lifeblood of the twenty-first century."_

 _-Caitlin Moran_

"Can I h… can I help you?"

Living in New York, ever since a crapload of aliens fell out of the sky, people tended not to be shocked by things anymore. Still, it should have been an ordinary Saturday morning shift in the hipster coffee shop, until Eva found herself serving a super.

At that point, it was impossible to tell whether he was a super _hero_ or super _villain_ ; he was tall enough for it to be the first thing Eva noticed about him, which was pretty tall considering he was magenta coloured, wearing a cape and had a jewel in the middle of his forehead. He was stood at the stained wooden counter somewhat awkwardly with a crumpled piece of paper in one hand; he seemed to be aware that everyone had stopped drinking out of their statement jam jars to stare at him, although wasn't quite sure how to react.

 _Pull yourself together_ , Eva chastised herself, _you're not helping the situation. Besides, supers tend to tip big._ "Sir?"

"Sorry." He was British, and had a surprisingly human, mellow voice. "It's my turn to do the coffee run."

"First time, huh?" she asked him, as he handed over the slip of paper. She recognised the near-pure caffeine order of the one and only Tony Stark on the list, who was a frequent visitor to the coffee bar and had even been known to bring a few of the other Avengers in on occasion, although Eva preferred when it was just Pepper. The Earth's Mightiest Heroes tended to make a mess. "Haven't seen you in here before."

"That's because I'm only two days old," the magenta man explained.

To her credit, she didn't even bat an eyelid. "That'll be it, then." She wedged the slip of paper into the top bar of the coffee machine and started to work her way through the list. "I assume you had something to do with the near-Armaggedon scenario that went down yesterday, then?" she asked, over her shoulder. The news had shown nothing else.

He picked up a business card from the counter, turned it over in his hands and returned it to the pile. "I was quite heavily involved, yes."

She hesitated. "You were one of the good guys, then? This isn't your punishment for trying to kill everybody, doing all Iron Man's powder monkey jobs?"

He laughed softly. "No, I was one of the… one of the good guys."

"Well, congratulations on winning." The machine rattled and gurgled away. "I think people might've actually been worried for a moment."

"Ah," said the man wryly, "I can understand how watching people get into an altercation that has nothing to do with them on the other side of the globe might be stressful."

She rolled her eyes. "Nothing wrong with a little empathy."

"Of course there isn't. Empathy is what makes you human, after all."

Shaking her head a little, she skimmed the excess foam off the top of the cardboard cups, and grabbed some lids from the pile. Seven cups; the usual requests from Iron Man, War Machine, Captain America, Hawkeye, Black Widow, and Thor (the only person who drank coffee stronger than Stark's, and with a great deal more sugar to boot). "Banner not feeling thirsty today, then?" She liked the scientist; he was quiet, apologized for the rowdiness of the others, and didn't terrify her. Admittedly she had never seen him in Hulk form, but still.

"I'm afraid I couldn't say." He handed over a crisp hundred dollar bill as she slotted the cups into a grid. "Keep the change."

"Thanks," she said without feeling. If it had been in change, she could have kept the extra money as a tip; as it was, she would be expected to put the hundred dollar note unbroken into the till, and never see the money again. "Enjoy your drinks."

"Oh, none of these are mine. I don't drink, you see."

She raised an eyebrow. "Then why are you doing the coffee run?"

"Mr Stark said I might enjoy it."

That sounded like the sort of thing the billionaire would say. "And did you?"

The man paused. "Yes, I suppose I did."

This time round the smile was genuine. "Have a nice day."

 **A/N just something I've been writing while distracting myself from exams. Will it turn romance-y? Who knows? Will bad stuff happens because it appears, as a writer, I am incapable of writing fluff? NOBODY CAN TELL! Will I keep updating? IT'S A LOTTERY!**


	2. Chapter 2

The maroon man was back the next day; this time only for three drinks- Captain America's, Black Widow's and War Machine's. "Good morning, Eva."

She stiffened. "How d'you know my name?" she demanded.

"I know everything on the internet; upon seeing your face, I automatically gained access to all of your social networks. Also, you're wearing a nametag."

"Oh." She'd forgotten about the tag; nobody else ever took notice of it, after all. She felt somewhat mollified by him bothering to read it, perhaps as much as she was creeped out by his ability to internet stalk her. Still, at least he hadn't dug much- she didn't want a superhero knowing too much about her. Not that she was particularly interesting; just that she was convinced she was a terrible enough person in everyday life for them to want to hunt her down. "That's alright, then."

"You don't seem to be as… intrigued by my appearance as everyone else does," he observed. A bespectacled man who had previously been staring open-mouthed over his typewriter shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

"Don't get paid to be _intrigued_ ," she replied, and he smiled. "Besides, we get enough superheroes in here, I kinda developed immunity. What's your name, then?"

"I…" he faltered. "I am not entirely sure."

"Well, you are only three days old," she reassured him, "even if you don't look it. What do people call you?"

"Now, they call me the Vision. They used to call me Jarvis, though. In another life, I suppose you could say. Not anymore."

"Vision it is, then." Chocolate dust, the same color as her hair, had spilled over the back of her hand- she brushed it off her slightly sunburnt skin as she skidded the cups along the counter towards him. "Word of advice? If you don't like being stared at, lose the cape."

"I don't actually give a damn if they do or not." As she moved closer to him, she saw that even his eyes were funny; they reminded her of camera lenses, the way the irises revolved and focused around the pupil.

"Suit yourself," she said, "besides, I don't see enough capes around nowadays."

He laughed softly. "So they pay you to give people advice?"

"No," she said, "but I like you."

He smiled again- his smile at least seemed human, he didn't have USB sticks for teeth or anything. "Thank you."

She shrugged, and glanced up at the clock. "Now leave me alone. My shift finishes in a minute and I can't clock off while there's people queuing. No offense."

 **A/N where did you all come from? I expected this to get two follows, tops. Following your feedback, this is going to stay lighthearted and friendship-y, if I can manage that. Anyway- any guesses as to who's doing the next coffee run, now that our flying, purple, laser-foreheaded friend has had his turn? I would give you a clue, but I'm mean.**


	3. Chapter 3: Falcon

"Hey," said the dude across the counter, folding his sunglasses up as he gave her an appraising look. "When someone recommended me here, I didn't realize it would be for the service as well as the coffee."

She thought whether or not the guy was the type to get offended if she told him to back off, or if she should just respond automatically and try to forget about the awful chatting up like she did most times. He seemed cool, though, so she decided to risk it.

"It'll stay good service if you stop coming on to me," she warned him, and to her relief he laughed.

"Fair enough. What's your name?" he asked, and she tapped her tag. "Eva, huh? Pretty name for a pretty girl."

"Last chance, dude."

"Sorry, sorry. Kinda hard to turn it off, y'know? I'm the Falcon- but you can call me Sam."

She resisted the urge to bruise his ego by telling him she had never heard of the Falcon before in her life. "Well, Sam, what can I get ya?"

"Chef's choice," he replied smoothly, and she nodded, thinking up the most expensive drink she could.

"You been in New York long, Sam?" she asked, grabbing the ginger off a shelf.

"Oh, I move around a lot- for work. Top secret, obviously, I can't go into details."

"Obviously," she agreed.

"But I got a call from my friend, he needed me here, and what can I say? New York's been good to me so far."

"Well, I'm very happy for you," she told him. "Who's the friend?"

"Oh, nobody big. Just, you know, Captain America."

" _Oh_!" she exclaimed. "You're his sidekick! The flying one."

He looked at her disgustedly. "I ain't nobody's sidekick!"

"Sure you're not," she consoled him.

He seemed quite offended, so in a rare moment of workplace empathy Eva knocked a few bucks off the price of the coffee. "Hey," she added, "try again in a few months when I'm not so stressed out and maybe your pickup lines might actually work." Stressed out, hungover, completely convinced that nobody would ever want to date her miserable ass- it was all the same thing.

"Seriously?" he asked, brightening immediately. "I mean- if I can wait that long, obviously. I'm a popular guy."

"I don't doubt it," she said, "and what can I say? You're kinda cute for a sidekick."

"Haha!" he wagged a finger at her as he slipped his glasses on, picked up his coffee and walked out of the shop.

 _Supers,_ she thought to herself, _they're all mad._

 **A/N I went to see AoU again yesterday. Better the second time round. Also, I am genuinely astounded at how many people like this.**


	4. Chapter 4

The magenta man- Vision- didn't turn up for the next week, and Eva found she was actually quite disappointed. He was different to her usual customer, not just because of his appearance, but also because he wasn't a pretentious asshole who talked to her like she was still in third grade. It was her regulars, instead- Cap, Stark, Hill- who did the coffee run, as per usual- or at least, usual for her.

Slipping into the back room, she pulled her hair out of its bun and hung up her apron, smoothing out the dress she had been wearing beneath it and dusting some sugar off of the black fabric. It was a nice dress; she didn't wear them often, and this one was practically still new. She grabbed her bag and went out back through the front, ducking beneath the counter and ignoring somebody asking her for a refill. The sunlight made her blink as she stepped outside; she pulled out a pair of sunglasses and wove through the crowds of people on the avenue as she headed towards Central Park.

"Good morning, Eva," said a smooth voice beside her.

She jumped; _how_ could she not notice him? The only place he'd fit in would be comic con, for God's sake. "Jeez, Vision! What the hell are you doing?"

"Paying you back for the advice," he explained, "even if I didn't take it." He held a cup out to her in a long-fingered hand.

"I don't drink coffee anymore," she said, aware of the blush creeping across her face. People were actually slowing down to look at them as they passed. "You wouldn't either, after two years of working in that place."

"I presumed you wouldn't, so I made you tea instead."

"Very English of you." Grudgingly, she took the cup. "Thanks."

"Actually, I have no nationality. Mr Stark selected this accent for me because it reminded him of the classic British butler archetype. And you're very welcome." He followed her as she set off again, staring at the gum-spotted pavement. He didn't say anything, though, and Eva didn't have the heart to tell him to go away.

"Have you not got any innocent civilians to save?" she asked him, taking a sip of the tea. It was hot and sweet, made the British way even if Vision wouldn't own up to it- just enough milk to make it drinkable without grimacing.

"They told me I should gain some experience of the outside world. I suppose the first hand data I have collected so far is somewhat subjective," he added, humour in his voice.

"Yeah. Normal people don't walk around in capes. Or people at all, really." Someone knocked against Vision with their shoulder as they hurried past; he stared at them as they walked away, an almost undetectable trace of confusion in his expression. "You okay?"

"Yes. Where are you going?"

"Central Park, so I can sit and write my dissertation and hopefully get a tan." _And without people bugging me_ , she added silently, despite not actually minding his company- save for the stares.

"What are you studying?"

"Agriculture and forestry. I uh, I like trees. Hence the park."

"I haven't been to a park before," Vision replied.

"Seriously? I mean, I guess you're less than a week old, but seriously?"

He glanced down. "I've been to a forest, if that counts. But it was quite barren."

"Come on," she sighed, "you can't carry on living this shade of a life any longer. I'm taking you to the park."

* * *

His cape fluttered in the lightest of breezes; they sat on the grass in the shade of a rowan tree, on the far side of the path so not as many people noticed them, and the golden fabric pooled out behind him. The rest of the way there he had been silent, and she had noted how incredibly gracefully he walked, as if it was only by choice his feet rested on the ground. The blush had faded but without the counter between them she found it hard to meet his eye; she kept her own glued to her laptop screen, at war with herself over whether or not she enjoyed the company. It wasn't like she had anyone else- her friends were all at the other end of the country back home in Austin, and between college work and work work she hadn't the time to socialise up here. Her only friends were the trees.

Out of the corner of her eye, she watched him run his hand over the short, slightly dried grass. He cocked his head to one side and she recalled how he knew "everything on the internet", then wondered if he was cross-referencing the information with what his senses were telling him.

"You like the park?" she asked, pushing her sunglasses back up her nose.

He paused, then nodded. "I like the park."

"Good. I don't think I could continue associating with you if you didn't."

"And I have no concept of what else I should do with my time than spend it with you," he said without sarcasm. Another odd comment that seemed to set him apart from the rest of humanity.

"What are you?" she blurted out, then internally kicked herself. "Sorry, I don't mean to be rude, I just- I'm sorry."

Vision looked up at her, but he didn't seem offended. "I understand. There has never been anything like me in the history of mankind before."

"That's a pretty brave statement."

"I am not brave, since I have no concept of fear."

She grinned. "Fair enough."

He lowered his gaze back to the grass. "J.A.R.V.I.S was originally an artificial intelligence created by Tony Stark to manage his household, which, since it was Tony Stark, meant babysitting him. When Ultron-"

"That's the scary robot guy, yeah?"

"Yes. When he attacked, he destroyed J.A.R.V.I.S and attempted to create an anthropomorphic body made out of vibranium in combination with organic tissues, along with the infinity stone from the god Loki's sceptre. But when the attempt to transfer his own consciousness into the body failed, Mr Stark uploaded me into it instead."

"I thought Ultron killed you?"

"He tried. But the internet is a labyrinth, and an excellent hiding place."

"And here you are."

"And here I am," he agreed. "What about you?"

"What about what about me?"

He blinked. "What is your story?"

"I don't have one, not really. And shouldn't you know it anyway, what with your world wide web brain?"

"I didn't want to pry, so I went no further than your name. Besides, we ought to talk about something. I'd feel a little awkward just watching you work."

"That's because it would be." She closed her laptop. "Born and raised in the weird part of Texas, my parents have a concrete business. Like literally, they get paid to go and pour cement over stuff." She rubbed her forehead. "I didn't ever like that much, so I moved up here to get away from it. I'm in my final year of college now, and working in a dead end job that's nothing like what I wanna do where I spend all my time being talked down to and smelling of a drink I hate," she finished. "And you just saved the world."

He was smiling at her. "Why would you be ashamed of your life?" he asked.

"Why wouldn't I?"

"Do you know what the odds are of you being born?" he said, and she shook her head. "One in three trillion. According to logic, with all the catastrophes and events ever to have happened in the universe, you should never have existed. And yet here you are, alive and talking to me under the shade of a thing you're so fascinated by, you're dedicating years of your life to studying them. And you expect me to believe that you achieving that isn't amazing?"

For the second time that day she found herself blushing. "When you put it like that," she mumbled.

"I've noticed that, as a rule, humans aren't aware of how wonderfully improbable they really are."

"I'll take that as a compliment, then."

"Please do."

It was funny- in that moment, she stopped seeing him as something inarguably separate from her, despite him distancing himself from humanity like that. He was the first person in New York to be genuinely nice to her, to make an effort to find her and talk to her without expecting anything in return. He seemed clever, like a level up from humanity in evolution- and yet he wasn't patronising at all, which made a refreshing change. _I think I've befriended a robot superhero._

"Thanks. You're a strange person, Vision."

"I try my best," he said wryly.

 **A/N I'm flattered that so many of you like Eva, separate of reading this for the superheroes. She's cute, in a messed up kinda way**


	5. Chapter 5: Captain America

The concealer had failed to hide the dark circles under her chlorophyll-colored eyes. Eva yawned as she changed the coffee filter, and turned back round to serve the next customer.

"Morning, Cap. The usual for ya?" she asked, brushing a shaft of hair back from her face.

"Sure," replied Rogers, charming as ever. He was out of his star-spangled suit and had the hood of his jacket pulled up, meaning most hadn't recognised him. "Just mine and Nat's, please."

"Sure thing. Stark's been in this morning already," she told him, unscrewing a new bottle of milk. It actually got delivered in plastic bags, but the owner insisted they transfer it to the glass bottles for the aesthetic of it. "Y'all on summer break or something?"

"Something like that," Rogers chuckled.

"I met your new friend, the purple guy. Vision. He seemed nice."

"Oh, he is," said Rogers, a little gruffly, "one of the two best people I know, apparently. Real _worthy_ guy." He didn't elaborate, and she didn't ask. But her curiosity in general got the better of her.

"So he's like a walking talking google chrome, right?"

"Yeah. I mean, he can fly and shoot lasers out of his forehead, but those are just sidelines really."

"Of course he can," she muttered. "How's everyone after that bust up over east?"

"We've been better," Cap admitted, "but we've also been worse. You don't look so good yourself."

"I had a paper due in that I forgot about, no biggie." She stifled another yawn. In reality, she had been up all night looking at grainy images of the fight in Sokovia. "Have a nice day, sir."

"Sure." He hesitated, then turned back to her. "Say, you know Vision?"

"What, the guy we were just talking about? Not a clue."

Cap rolled his eyes. "No, I mean- I think he should be around normal people more. D'you mind if I send him your way?"

"Uh…" It was a weird request, but it wasn't like anything bad could come of it. "Sure, why not?" she grabbed a business card and scribbled her address down on the back of it. "Tell him not to bother knocking."

"Will do. Thank you."

"No problem," she said, after his retreating back. Cap was a nice guy, but two things about that conversation bugged her that she wouldn't have picked up before; he had called her normal, and hadn't used her name.

 **A/N since all the different supers coming to the cafe seems about as popular as interactions between Eva and Vision (brotp amiright), I'll try to keep the fic a pretty even balance between the two.**


	6. Chapter 6: War Machine

"Hey, Iron Patriot," Eva grinned as she wiped down the table next to the one he was sitting at.

Rhodey looked up from his laptop to narrow his eyes at her. "How come you only ever called me War Machine my name was still officially _that_?"

"Because it's one of the few sources of amusement in my miserable life of drudgery. How's it going, colonel?"

"It's going good. New things happening, old things settling down. Hey, did I tell you about the thing with-"

"The tank?" she finished for him. "With your sweet one-liner? Yeah, you told me."

He nodded, looking satisfied. "That was a _great_ one liner. Everyone with a sense of humor laughs at that- right?" he asks her, a note of concern in her voice.

She shrugged, and flipped the rag over as the streetlights came on outside. "I guess so."

"Yeah," Rhodey muttered, turning back to his laptop, "it was good, it was good."

"You okay, colonel?"

"Hm? Oh, yeah."

"You're in here a lot more than you always used to be," she noted aloud. "You moved nearer to Stark?"

He snorted. "Not by choice. No, I've got this thing- Tony actually isn't involved in it, for once. At least, not anymore. People actually want me for me, now, not as his government counterpart." He straightened his collar. "War Machine's joining the big leagues."

"Good for him." Eva kicked the chair back under the table. "But what about James Rhodes? You look exhausted." She sat down in the chair opposite him; she had always had a soft spot for Rhodey, who always seemed to get eclipsed by the spotlight of his rather more narcissistic best friend.

"Just work stuff. I'm working for the government and a private corporation now, I gotta figure out how to juggle them, y'know?"

She nodded. "Oh, yeah. I mean, if I'm not at college I'm working, and if I'm not working I've got a dissertation to write, and then I've got my cat to look after…" she trailed off. "I mean, it's not War Machine level, but it's busy."

"Hey-" Rhodey pointed at her. "You just called me War Machine, coffee girl."

"Did not," she said immediately.

"Did too!" He grinned. "You said it, no take-backs!"

She laughed at his excitement. "Okay, maybe I said it. Don't expect it to happen again."

"Thanks for that."

"It was completely by accident," she assured him. "You're never gonna forget it, are ya?"

"Uh, no way." He leant back in his chair. "I'm gonna need all the self-esteem I can get, considering who my new colleagues are."

"Oh?" she raised an eyebrow.

He tapped his nose. "That's for me to know and you to not find out, kid. Stop pouting."

"One day that'll work," she muttered. "What use are superhero customers if I don't get top secret stuff out of them to sell to Wikileaks?"

"Not funny," said Rhodey.

"Eva!" she jumped out of her skin as her rarely-seen boss materialised next to her. "What are you doing? Get back to work?"

"Sorry, Mr G," she muttered, standing up and hurrying back to where she had left her cleaning stuff.

"You're on your last warning, girl. One more time and you're fired."

Rhodey stood up, towering over her tiny boss. "Sir, it was my fault- I invited her to sit with me. She did right by stopping, rather than ignoring me. Don't hold it against her, I'll pay for the time I took from her work." He pulled out his wallet, and Mr G's piggy eyes watered at the crisp notes inside.

"Very kind of you sir, very kind," he babbled, reaching out for them. Rhodey held the bills just out of arm's reach.

"She's not going to get in trouble?" he asked.

Mr G wavered for a moment, then- "no, of course not."

"Good." The boss scuttled away into the back room.

"Thanks," said Eva, "I owe you."

"Call it payment for using my badass name." He smiled at her. "Night, kid."

"Night, Iron Patriot."

He went back to a scowl.

 **A/N GUYS WE'RE NEARLY AT 100 FOLLOWERS THIS IS SO** ** _EXCITING_**


	7. Chapter 7

She actually caught Vision as he walked into the apartment block; she whistled through her teeth and he turned to look at her.

"Hey, Oompa-Loompa."

"Hello." He followed her to the elevator- Mrs Jensen on floor five held it open for them.

"Afternoon, Mrs J."

"Hello, dearie. Who's your friend?" the little old lady squinted through pearly spectacles up at Vision.

"Some super."

"I'm Vision."

"And what do you do, young man?"

Eva bit down on her fist to keep herself from laughing.

"I help save the world, and stop Tony Stark destroying it."

"Good for you." The doors _ping_ ed open, and Mrs J shuffled out.

"Are you laughing at me?" Vision asked, as the elevator started upwards again.

"No. Maybe." She gave up trying to hide it, and started giggling. A moment later, Vision grinned too.

Eva liked her apartment; three floors from the top, it was small and poky but also caught a lot of light, which was good for her plants. Boxes full of flowers lined the windows, and you couldn't get onto the tiny balcony due to it being entirely taken up by clusters of ceramic pots. As she unlocked and opened the door her cat opened one eye as they walked in, then went back to sleep in the center of the sole armchair.

"Useless animal," she said under her breath. "I would offer you a seat, but Rachel Carson's taken the only one."

"I presume that's the name of your cat, and that the agriculturalist is not currently residing in your apartment."

"I wish." They both sat down on the floor. "So you used to be the AI that ran all of Stark's stuff, right? What was that like?"

"If it was possible for me to be mentally scarred, I have no doubt I would be."

She laughed, which woke Rachel Carson up. The cat thudded off the chair and plodded towards Vision, sniffing his hand. He scratched her behind the ears, and mirrored Eva by resting his chin on his palm.

"It appears to be your turn to tell me something about you," he said.

She groaned. "Give me a moment to actually think of something."

"I highly doubt you are as boring as you make out to be, Eva."

"Prepare to be surprised," she said drily. "I'm Eva Kresk, I'm twenty one, this sounds like I'm at alcoholics anonymous, and… I dunno, I like scary movies. The fact I can't get through one without doing terrified crying does not seem to put me off."

Rachel Carson oozed onto Vision's lap. "Which ones?" he asked, shifting the cat's weight slightly.

"You wanna see?"

%

"Nope!"

She paused _Saw IV_ mid-murder, stood up and strode around the room, wringing her hands. "Can't do it!"

"Are you okay?" Vision asked, who hadn't batted an eyelid throughout the film.

"Nope!" she switched the lights back on with shaking fingers. "I can't watch them on my own! I haven't watched one since I moved up here! I was not prepared!"

Vision watched her progress as she paced around the room. "Your heart rate appears to be elevated."

"Hell yeah, it is!"

"If you don't enjoy the results, then why watch it in the first place?"

"Now is not the time to be questioning how freaking weird humans are, dude. I'm having a moment. I am not a clever person! I do not have the foresight to think about how it's gonna mess me up! I ain't got that robot brain!" She swallowed, grabbed a blanket and wrapped it around herself. "What's the time?"

"Twenty-seven minutes to midnight." Maybe she was imagining it, but it seemed to her that Vision was trying to hide his amusement.

Whenever she closed her eyes, terrifying stills from the film flashed across her retinas. But when she kept them open, all she could imagine were creeps crawling through her window. "Right. I… I'm going to bed," she sniffed.

"Probably wise." He stood up. "Goodnight, Eva."

She twisted the hem of her shirt in her hands. "Vision?"

He had already reached the door, but turned around when she called his name. "Yes?"

"D- don't leave me. Please."

He didn't look amused anymore, but he was still smiling. "Of course not."

"Thank you."

She pulled the sheets up over her head and curled up around Rachel Carson on the bed, the cat's warmth reassuringly solid and non-terrifying. Vision stayed in the other room; he sat unmoving staring at the wall with a slightly vacant expression, as though his mind were somewhere else. She fell asleep to the sound of him humming the fifth symphonyunder his breath.

 **A/N YO over 100 follows, 70 favourites and nearly 50 reviews in less than a month? AAAAAAAUUUGH**


	8. Chapter 8: Iron Man

When she woke up the next morning, her apartment had the stillness not of someone being in there who was remarkably silent, but of empty rooms and cool pre-dawn light. Yawning, she dragged the duvet through with her to the kitchen, where a flask was sat on the counter with a post-it note attached. It was quite pretty, cursive handwriting, but almost like it had been typed in that repeated letters were identical.

 _I checked your apartment for possessed dolls and psychopathic killers before I left, but did not find any. Also, I made you tea._

 _-V_

She grinned, and held a hand to the flask- it was still warm. Then, looking up, she saw the clock.

"Oh, _crap!_ "

Twenty minutes later, after having dressed at top speed and sprinted down avenues and back alleys, she barrelled into the coffee shop and over the counter, grabbed her apron from the back, and near collapsed in front of the next customer.

"Need a moment, short round?"

"I'm not that short," she panted. "Good morning Mr Stark, how can I help you today?"

"Well, I'll let you get your breath back, and then you can guess."

"You're all I need," she muttered, and he beamed behind his sunglasses. Grumpily, she grabbed a shot cup from the shelf.

"So," said Stark, "I hear you're being a bad influence on my butler."

"Ex butler. Now fellow superhero," she corrected him. "Pretty badass too, by the looks of it."

Stark huffed. "I'm badass."

"Sure you are, sweetheart." She slammed his espresso on the counter in front of him.

"Somebody got up on the wrong side of bed this morning," Stark remarked, swiping his card.

She scowled. "Somebody hasn't got the patience for arrogant billionaires with fancy suits this morning."

"Whoa!" Stark raised his hands in the air. "Clearly I shouldn't've poked the bear."

Sighing, she tapped a couple of buttons on the card machine. "I'm sorry, sir, I shouldn't have snapped. Drink's on the house."

"Right. Because I totally would've noticed my pocket getting lighter otherwise."

"Have a nice day, Mr Stark."

"I was planning on it."

She rubbed her eye with the heel of her palm, blinked a couple of times, and prepared herself for the next customer.

 **A/N and, after eight chapters, the great Tony Stark finally makes an appearance. And we also see evidence that Eva is** ** _not_** **a morning person.**


	9. Chapter 9

"Checkmate."

"Screw you, robot," she pouted, the mid-afternoon sun beating down through the park trees onto her back. As she rubbed her neck to relieve the heat a little, the collar of her wide-necked shirt slipped down over her other shoulder. "I should've known chess would be a bad idea against an anthropomorphic computer."

"I'm not a computer," Vision replied mildly. "What's that?" he nodded at the narrow black lines that ran over from her back.

"The reason I have to work every day of the week. Tattoos are freaking expensive," she said. She pulled her hair to one side to reveal the spindly black branches inked on her skin, running from just under her ear, down her neck and over her shoulder onto the blade. Instead of leaves, words ran along the branches.

"I think that I shall never see a poem lovely as a tree," Vision read out.

"Yup. _And_ it hurt to buggery."

"Then why did you get it?"

"Why do I watch scary movies? Why did I ask you to play me at chess? Why do I drink myself into oblivion on the last Sunday of every month? I'm self-destructive. It's one of my many flaws."

"Why the last Sunday of every month?" Vision asked.

"It's nice to have a schedule." She smiled as he laughed. "It's funny. You're so… pure."

"I'm still less than a month old," he reminded her.

"I know, it's just… most people, it would only take them a day in this world to find something they hate. That's what happened with Ultron, isn't it? But you act as if every little thing is some miracle- like, the way you were looking at me just now. Nobody ever looks at me like that."

"Then they're missing out," Vision replied.

"Smooth," she said. "Very smooth."

"What's wrong?" he asked her, as she rolled the rook piece between her thumb and forefinger.

"What? Nothing." She sighed. "I was late to work this morning and I hate being late, is all. Puts me in a bad mood."

"Really?" he asked. "I hadn't noticed."

"You know when I was talking about you being pure a minute ago? I take it back. You're a sarcastic asshole."

"Thank you," he said, and she pouted.

"You could have made a much better choice for your token normal person friend," she told him, sweeping the chess pieces into her bag.

"And yet here we are," Vision said.

She shrugged. "I'm a piece of shit, V. You're better off without me; as a rule, everyone is, I reckon. I… I can't do good stuff like other people. I'm a freaking _gardener_ , not even a good one, a crappy gardener hell-bent on drinking herself into an early grave because I'm of no use to anyone. There are _so_ many better people than me that you could spend time with." The niggling thoughts she had had all her life, created from her parents' snide comments and amplified by her loneliness since leaving home, all came tumbling out. "I'm of no use, Vision. No use to anybody."

"You think you're doomed," he said.

She pulled a hipflask out of her bag and unscrewed it. "Well, I'm dooming myself, I guess. Nothing better to do. I mean, I'll die anyway, so what's the point in wasting everybody's time?" That shocked even herself a little. "I mean… I don't _want_ to die. I'm not like that, death is… freaking terrifying. But I'm going to anyway, so I might as well live fast and intoxicated, right?"

"You sound like someone else I once talked to," said Vision. "Except he thought on a somewhat larger scale. Eva, look at me." He leant forward and cool fingers lifted her chin, so she met his impossible eyes. "You are not perfect, nor should you want to be. You think that your flaws make you less of a person- a good person. But they are what make you human."

"Humanity's kinda crap anyway," she mumbled, "be glad you're not a part of it."

"It's people like you that make me wish I were a part of it." She raised an eyebrow at him. "I envy you your flaws, Eva. I think they're beautiful."

She closed her eyes and dropped her head so her forehead was pressed against his knuckles. "Stop flirting with me," she said weakly.

"Believe it or not, I wasn't trying to. I wouldn't want to step on Sam Wilson's toes."

She laughed. "You seriously think I'm not a waste of space?"

"Not in the least," he said firmly.

She stood up. "That makes one person, then. And one's all I need." She checked her watch as she dropped her flask back into her bag. "I gotta go, or I'll be late to class. Have a nice day Avenging."

"Enjoy your gardening."

 **A/N So after much deliberation, I reckon if I had to fancast Eva it would be Arryn Zech, for the following reasons: she has very pretty green eyes, her day job is a barista, and she lives in Austin. She's also not stereotypically drop-dead gorgeous, but I still really fancy her (as does Sam Wilson. Eva, that is. Not Arryn). Anyhoo, the quote she has in her tattoo is from a poem by Joyce Kilmer.**


	10. Chapter 10: Thor

Eva's heart sank as the Norse god of thunder walked through the door, but when she realized he was wearing normal people clothes, and had someone with him that most certainly wasn't an Avenger, she perked up again a little.

"Morning, sir," she said, "I didn't hear you were back in town."

"Officially, I'm not," Thor said, winking at the woman he had brought with him, who smiled back at him. She was very small and very pretty, her light brown hair falling loose over her face.

"I won't tell anybody if you don't want me to. You must be Jane Foster, right? He talks about you a lot."

"He does?" she asked, and Eva could have sworn Thor was blushing.

"Oh yeah, all the time. He's like, "Jane got another doctorate" this, and "Jane discovered a new universe" that. It's very cute."

"I'm not cute," mumbled Thor, and Jane beamed.

"Anyway, what do you want to drink on your date?"

It was a slow afternoon, so a short while later Eva wasn't too busy to spy on- that was, observe- the couple from afar. Whenever one talked, the other seemed completely enthralled- not just by their opinion, but if they genuinely found what the other was saying fascinating. Eva, who had seen a lot of couples in her work as a barista over the years, had found that that was actually quite a rare thing in a relationship, and envied them for it. Plus, Thor seemed much better behaved when he was around his girlfriend; he didn't smash a glass _once_.

He even carried the mugs back up to the counter once they had finished; "you're _adorable_ ," Eva told him as Jane sorted through her bag.

"I'm not adorable," he grumbled, "I am a warrior."

"An adorable teddy bear warrior." She dropped the mugs in the sink. "Now go have a wonderful day with your cute astrophysicist girlfriend, or I'll tell the others and they'll make you go on a mission or whatever it is you guys do."

Thor paused. "You are acquainted with Vision, are you not?"

She shrugged. "Yeah, I guess. Why?"

"How is he?"

"Uh, good I guess. Why d'you wanna know?"

"I created him," said Thor, "I feel some responsibility."

"I thought it was Stark who made him?"

"Stark imported his AI into the body Ultron created, but it was I who gave him the jump-start he needed."

"I don't know what that is, but… does that mean he's not J.A.R.V.I.S? Did- did Stark kill him to create Vision?"

Thor gave her a funny look. "You seem concerned."

"I don't like it when innocent people die," she said, "ain't that reasonable?"

"Very. But the AI didn't die, you need not worry yourself- he merely fused with the gem and evolved with it. J.A.R.V.I.S is still in there."

"I think I understood that," she said, relieved. Knowing her friend was the product of a murder would have complicated the way she saw him somewhat. "You're a lot smarter than you first seem, Mr Odinson."

Thor shrugged, his shirt straining with the pressure from his shoulder muscles. "I do come from a race significantly more developed than your own," he said, "it's only natural that humans do not compare to me."

She tutted. "Just when I was beginning to like you," she grinned, "ya go and insult my species. Now get out."

 **A/N Before I forget, since one of y'all asked in your review- Eva isn't the only employee, but she's the only one who works there during her shifts. Also a fun fact for any of you who actually read my A/Ns: in the original draft, Eva did a very stupid thing and ended up with a superpower. Kudos to anyone who can guess what it was.**


	11. Chapter 11

"You seem in a good mood," Vision observed, as Eva made that morning's coffee run for him while humming the score of _Swan Lake_.

"Makes a change, right?" she asked, changing the coffee filter.

"I couldn't possibly comment."

"Listen," she said, "I have a favor to ask, and I haven't… I haven't got anyone else to go to."

"I owe you," he said, "what is it?"

"You really don't, but- I'm gonna be out of town overnight tonight. Can you close my apartment window about ten? I would before I go, but otherwise Rachel Carson'd be trapped outside overnight."

"Of course I will. Do I need a key?"

"Nah, you can just push it shut from the outside and it'll lock automatically. Cap said you could fly, so I figured-"

"I'll try and be inconspicuous," said Vision, "it's what I'm good at."

She snorted. "Sarcasm is the lowest form of wit."

"Indeed it is, Eva. Where are you going?"

"My parents are in Boston," she said, "I promised I'd go meet 'em after they're done meeting with this big supermarket company they're making a car park for."

"You don't sound as though you approve."

"I don't. It's going over a greenfield site, but what can ya do?" she had been in similar situations before. "It'll be fine, I'll bite my tongue."

"Now that's something I'd like to see," said Vision, and she stuck her tongue out at him as she handed over the coffee.

"Hilarious. I'm actually kinda optimistic this time round, though. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, right?"

"Quite. Don't work yourself to death, Eva."

"I'll try not to." She watched him leave the shop, finding it was easy to keep an eye on him as he walked through the crowds.

* * *

"Mew."

"Shut it, Rachel Carson." Eva dumped her bag on the chair. "Y'know, this time I was actually kinda optimistic about meeting them, y'know? I thought, we've had time apart, we've all matured a bit, we can put aside our differences and be a normal family- but no. They're still as disappointed in me as ever." She laid face down on the floor. "I'm gonna have to go live in the woods, Rachel Carson. It's the only way."

"Mew."

"Oh, yeah. Water the plants." She grabbed the can and filled it up at the sink. "What about you Rachel Carson? Did you see Vision tonight?"

"Mew."

"Then you probably had a better night than I did. He's a cool guy." She opened the balcony door and started watering her petunias. "Weird, but cool. And he's sweet. I like him." She paused. "Not like _that_ , obviously. He's a robot, and purple. But I actually have a friend now, y'know? An android superhero friend who wears a cape, but still a friend." She dropped the can and closed the door behind her, and Rachel Carson followed her to her tiny bathroom.

"Mew."

"I don't even know if he likes me. I mean, he _seems_ like he likes everyone, but he could just be humouring me." She turned the shower on and began to strip off her clothes. "He probably is, actually. But I'm okay with that- it's not like anyone's gonna like me because of me."

She climbed into the shower; hot water beat down on her and she bowed her head into the stream, feeling it wash along her hairline and tattoos.

"Mew."

"Not that I don't like all the other supers. I mean, they're all either terrifying or complete pricks, but such is life. They make my work interesting, and I think if I just had to serve hipsters all day I would actually go insane. But Vision's the only one I'd choose to spend time with, except maybe Sam. But Sam's hot, so that doesn't count."

"Mew."

"Nah. I'm busy enough without having to deal with all the romance crap- I've still gotta revise this dissertation before I hand it in, and then since my family's useless I'll probably stay here which means looking for a job, and finding a job in agriculture in one of the world's most industrialised cities'll be a laugh."

"Mew."

"I was being sarcastic, Rachel Carson. Jeez." She turned off the shower and wrapped a towel around herself. "You think the Avengers need a gardener?"

"Mew."

"I ain't asking. It'd be like charity if I asked Vision, he's too nice to tell me to sod off and look for a job properly. No, I'll do it right. Coffee shop'll pay my way for now."

"Mew."

"Minimum wage don't mean squat when you've got billionaires who like to tip big."

"Mew?"

"Yes, Rachel Carson, that was a possessive and they are mine. I gotta look after 'em, keep 'em caffeinated so they're wide awake to save the world. Hell, I'm only so far away from packing their lunch every time they go for a mission."

 **A/N hey, you! Do you like a) badly written and abnormal OCs, b) short chapters that are 80% dialogue, and c) MCU!Verse fics? Of course you do, you're reading this! Do you also like I) Bucky Barnes and II) intense sexual tension? Then boy, do I have the fic for you! Check out "Finding Bucky", by your favourite author I-AM-SiriusLOCKED, on fanfiction dot net RIGHT NOW! (I'll love you 5ever)**


	12. Chapter 12: Black Widow

"Morning," said Eva, measuring every world, "what can I do for you today?"

"Espresso, please," said Agent Romanoff, then looked to Hill. "What d'you-"

"Same for me."

"On it. You staying in or taking out?"

"Taking out." Romanoff turned to Hill. "Well? Was it him?"

"We don't know, Nat. He's good at going underground."

"We had tabs on him last time, didn't we?"

"That was when we still had the whole of SHIELD on our side. Now even with Stark, we haven't got the manpower. We're supers now, not spies, we can't afford to track anyone when there's bigger threats."

"But he's not just anyone, Maria," said Romanoff agitatedly, "he's one of us."

Eva frowned as she made the drinks. It sounded like one of the Avengers were missing, but that wasn't what bugged her- it was Black Widow, who seemed genuinely distressed, and it wasn't like the woman to show emotion normally.

"Is everything okay?" she asked, handing over the drinks.

"It's fine," said Romanoff shortly. "Put these on Stark's tab."

"Sure." She chewed her lip, and the two agents' conversation bugged her for the rest of the day, through her classes and up until she met Vision in Central Park that evening.

"Bruce Banner's gone missing," she said, pulling clumps of grass up with her fingers, "hasn't he?"

"I couldn't say," he replied. "But if he hasn't been publicly seen since Sokovia… I'll leave you to make your own conclusion."

"I heard Romanoff and Hill talking about someone going missing," she said, "and he's the only one of you lot who hasn't turned up in the last month. I'd ask what happened if I expected you to answer."

"He's alive," Vision assured her, "we would know if he isn't. I'm sure Mr Banner can look after himself."

Eva's lip twitched. "You talk like a butler," she told him.

"Would you like me to stop?"

She shook her head. "Never stop being you, V, you bring rare joy to my life." He laughed. "It was weird though, seeing Romanoff be human. She's terrifying normally."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Which is weird, considering Barton is about as intimidating as a sparrow."

Vision shrugged one shoulder, the same way she always did. "I'm sure there are many people who would disagree."

"No doubt," she said, and yawned. "My final paper's due in next Tuesday."

"Good luck," he said, "although I'm sure you don't need it."

"I'll take what I can get. If you don't see me on Wednesday, it's because my professor's murdered me for it being so bad."

"If he does then he will have me to deal with," said Vision.

"What about you? How's your first month of life been?"

"It's been a little odd. People are much more vivid in the flesh than when you're just an AI," he told her.

"You're blending in wonderfully," she told him, "apart from the whole appearance thing, plus that you're much nicer than the average human."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome."

"You are okay though, right?" she asked, a little anxiously. "Settling in? Not becoming disenfranchised with humanity as a whole and developing a desire to blow everything up? Nobody picking on you?"

He tilted his head to one side. "Are you worried about me?"

"No! Maybe. A little bit. Just… I don't like the way people act around you, especially in the shop- as if you're not a person, because you are. Okay?"

"Okay," said Vision.

"Promise?"

"I promise to remember that I'm a person."

"Good." She relaxed. "Okay, I'm done fussing over you now. Normal conversation can be resumed."

"When you pass-"

"If I pass," she corrected him.

"When you pass, what are you going to do after graduation?" Vision asked. "Move back to Austin?"

"Oh, no. That place is too weird even for me, and I'm the Avengers' coffee girl. Besides, my friends have all moved on and my parents made clear they don't want me, so I'll stick around here."

"Good," said Vision, "I would miss you otherwise."

"Really?" she asked disbelievingly, and he nodded. "Aw. Anyway, who else is brave enough to serve the Mighty Thor when he's in town?"

 **A/N long A/N, with good news and bad news.**

 **Good first: in celebration of this getting 100 favs & (nearly) 200 follows, to flesh out the world a bit I have made Eva a fully in-character tumblr. Want to ask her a question about ****_anything_** **; her favourite tree, how she got Rachel Carson, weird trivia about the Avengers? Well, now you can! Her username is arbxrea, so if you don't have a tumblr just type in arbxrea dot tumblr dot com, and click on "ask". If you do have a tumblr, if you scroll through her blog you'll see she leaves little messages in the tags, often for Vision. It also has lots of pictures of plants.**

 **Bad news: due to the amount of time between now and Civil War, updates are going to become a lot less regular- probably once every week for a bit, then I'll space them out to fortnightly since I want to avoid a long hiatus between films. More bad news: sorry reviewer, but (spoilers) Pietro is still dead in this fic. That doesn't mean he won't have his own chapter though... ;)**

 **Anyway: as always, thank you all so much for the staggeringly large amount of support this has, I love you all. And apologies for the shameless self promotion last chapter. And the absurdly long A/N. I'll shut up now.**


	13. Chapter 13: HQ

Her battered old motorbike looked very out of place as she pulled up outside the sleek and intimidating gates of the new Avengers HQ. Recalling what Steve had told her to do, she lifted the visor on her helmet, swung a leg over the saddle and walked over to a buzzer on one side. Upon pressing it, two lasers appeared- one scanning her, one scanning her bike.

"Who're you?" a crackly voice barked through the speakers.

"Uh. Eva Kresk. I have a delivery."

"You the Oscorp person?"

"Um, no. Delivery as in coffee run."

There was a pause, filled only with static crackling. "You got ID?" the voice asked, and with difficulty she extracted her license from the pocket of her leathers. "Hmm. Come in, then."

The gates glided noiselessly open to reveal a long driveway leading up to a large, low slung white building in a clear area of deciduous forest. She revved her spluttery engine and drove along it, and two guys with guns ran towards her as she approached the building.

"Whoa!" she said, jumping off the bike and raising her hands in the air. "Don't shoot me!"

"We're here to show you the way, girl. Calm down."

"Oh." Feeling a little disappointed at the apparently somewhat lax security, Eva opened the box mounted on the back of her bike and pulled out the grid that held the cups.

"I don't see why they don't just use the coffee machine here," said one of the guards. "It's easier."

"Because I make good joe, bitch. If it's good enough for Captain America then it's good enough for you."

"It _is_ supposed to be the best coffee in New York, Pete," the other guard said, "and it's not the weirdest thing that happens here, let's be real."

"Yeah, Pete," Eva added.

"Harrumph," said Pete. Eva was amazed- it wasn't even like he made a noise of distaste, he actually _harrumphed_. She didn't think people really did that. "It's probably cold by now, anyway."

"Still warm, dude. Stop slagging it off while I'm stood right here." They led her to a set of frosted glass doors, which slid open automatically. "Delivery!"

"Oh, good," said Cap, taking his gratefully. The motley assortment were stood around a glass table- she recognised all of them, save for a dark-haired girl in a red jacket who watched her warily. As she looked at the table and the holograms projected onto it, Romanoff swiped a hand across it and they disappeared.

"Did you get your dissertation grade yet?" Vision asked her, who unlike the others had not surged forward towards the caffeine, due to the fact he never seemed to drink.

She shook her head. "Not for another week," she told him, "one more week of wonderful ambiguity, before I find out how terrible I really am. It's like- if you took twelve years of constant terrified screaming and compressed it all into a single being, that is me right now."

"You'll do wonderfully," he assured her.

"Sure I will," she said, voice laden with sarcasm. "Hello, Falcon-you-can-call-me-Sam."

"Morning, Eva the pretty coffee girl," Sam grinned. "How's it going?"

"Much the better for being let into your super secret base," she replied, "it's very exciting. We should do this more often."

"Oh, we _should_ ," he said, and Cap coughed loudly behind him. "Anyway. Back to the work of a superhero."

"Yep." She waved goodbye to Vision, who raised a hand in response, and was shepherded out of the door. "What were they doing?" she asked her new guard friends.

"None of your business," muttered Pete.

"Fine. But the busier they get, the more likely I am to deliver here, so I suggest you get used to me."

 **A/N Security Pete for Douchebag of the Year 2k15**


	14. Chapter 14

"Eva?"

"I DID IT!" she yelled down the phone. "I GOT A FIRST! I DIDN'T EVEN THINK I WOULD PASS!"

"Congratulations," said Vision, sounding genuinely pleased. "I told you that you could do it."

"I have a three kilo tub of nutella and I'm gonna eat _the whole goddamn thing_ to celebrate," she told him, as the students around her called their families and friends to share the news. "Graduation's next Thursday afternoon, so if y'all order drinks then it won't be me delivering."

"Do your parents know?" Vision asked.

"No, since I haven't told them. I plan on enjoying my graduation ceremony, thank you very much."

Vision laughed. "Enjoy your vat of diabetes, Eva. I have to go."

"Okay. And Vision…"

"Yes?"

"Thank you for caring," she mumbled.

"It's a very easy thing to do," he said.

"Debatable. Bye." She hung up, as the girl next to her started crying again. She genuinely hadn't believed she could do it- and here she was, with one of the best marks in the class. She was a qualified gardener, she had money in the bank, and there was an ungodly amount of chocolate hazelnut spread waiting for her. Life was good.

%

Her new sleeve tat still felt a little raw under the fabric of her graduation robe, but at least it was no longer covered in clingfilm. The silhouette of a forest started at her wrist and climbed up to her elbow, with birds flying above it over her upper arm. She had missed the kick that came from the needle running over the skin, the knowledge that the pain it brought her was worth something. That a little bit of self destruction could result in something beautiful. She had been having an existential crisis a couple of weeks ago when V had told her something that he had also apparently said to Ultron- that there was grace in her failings. That reminded her of this, a little. Good coming of bad.

The graduation ceremony was configured so that once someone was called up to get their certificate of qualification, they were not seen again and did not return to the waiting room. For all that everybody else knew, they could be going outside and getting shot in the head.

"Who's coming for you?" a natural sciences girl asked a biology major.

"My parents, my aunt and uncle, a couple of cousins… the whole fam's coming up from Detroit, actually. What about you?"

"My boyfriend- well, fiancé now," she said, extending a glittering hand to show biology, who squealed.

Slowly, Eva began to edge away from the two.

"Hey!" cried natural sciences. "Agri girl, you got anybody in the audience?"

Eva's shoulders sagged as she slunk back towards them. "No," she said, and even though she had spent the previous night convincing herself she was fine on her own, there was a twinge of sadness that not even one of her Austin friends had come up to see her, like they had all been promising to do. "I'm the lone ranger today."

"Aw," said biology, without emotion, "that sucks." And then they were called away to go receive their degrees. Eva yawned, and resisted the urge to take a swig from the flask sitting heavily in the pocket of her gown.

"Kresk! You're up!"

"Coming!" she said, running forward and up the stairs towards the stage that fronted out onto the university green, which had been filled with seats for the occasion. All she could think of was how badly the turf would be getting torn up by the heels on all the fancy dress shoes. She couldn't see the crowd behind the stage, but she could hear the discordant echo of the principal's microphone, and the clapping every minute or so.

"And graduating with a first in agriculture and forestry, Evaline Chloe Kresk."

 _I hate my name_ , Eva mused as she climbed the stairs- and instead of the harmonious clapping that she had been hearing beforehand, several loud, discordant whoops came from the back of the audience, along with a victorious battle cry.

 _What the hell…?_

As the unnerved-looking principal handed her the certificate and shook her hand, Eva squinted to the back of the seats and saw her most loyal customers stood there, cheering. Stark, Cap, Pepper Potts, Sam, War Mach- Iron Patriot, Thor even, with his cute scientist girlfriend. Hawkeye was there with Black Widow, who despite being terrifying was also smiling reluctantly, the girl in red with dark hair from the HQ who was probably only there because the rest of them were, a middle-aged man she vaguely recognized as the astrophysicist Dr Selvig- and Vision, who winked at her.

Something bubbled up inside of her; whether it was a laugh, sob or just pure embarrassment she couldn't quite tell, but it was definitely something. She vacated the stage and jogged towards them, feeling a blush spread over her entire body until she may well have been Vision's younger sister.

"Seriously?" she said disbelievingly. " _Seriously_?"

"They've got a free bar after this part," Tony pointed out, and Pepper tutted.

"The Avengers came to my graduation ceremony," she muttered to herself, "oh my God, the Avengers came to my graduation. In costume."

"This is my uniform," Cap pointed out, "and Thor wore ceremonial battle carb."

"Congratulations," said Jane, shaking Eva's hand and being a well-needed bit of normality. "Degrees in science really open doors, just wait and see."

"Especially with the state of the HQ lawn every time Thor rainbows in," said Black Widow, who was at least dressed normally instead of her catsuit.

"So what happens now?" asked Sam.

"I look for a job, I suppose."

"Nah, I meant as in right now. Do we have to stick around for the rest of this or can we go and get wasted?"

She shrugged. "Nobody's gonna make you stay here, I guess."

"Sweet." The motley assortment took off towards the building where the bar had been set up, leaving Eva alone with Vision.

"You told 'em it was today?" she asked him.

He nodded. "I didn't anticipate all of them coming with me, but I wasn't about to let you graduate on your own. I hope you don't mind."

"Mind? V, people pay thousands of dollars to get an Iron Man _lookalike_ to come to their birthday parties, and I just got the package deal for free. Did you see the look that biology major was giving me? Priceless." Eva wasn't great with words, so instead of trying to articulate the overwhelming gratitude she felt, she pulled Vision into a hug, instead. "Thank you."

He hesitated for a moment, then wrapped his arms around her. "You're very welcome. Although I think everyone still expects you to do the coffee run, regardless of your new qualification."

 **A/N COMING NEXT WEEK (or immediately if you're reading this in the semi-distant future): the Avengers and Eva go for celebratory drinks. Then some more celebratory drinks. And then some more drinks, and then singing happens.**


	15. Chapter 15

"FAH- A LONG WAY TO THE BAR, SO- I'LL HAVE ANOTHER BEER, LAH- LA LA LA LA LA LAAAAA, TI- NO THANKS I'LL HAVE A BEER…"

"I haven't heard this version before," Vision observed, as the entire male portion of the party minus him swayed from side to side, their arms wrapped around each other. Thor had brought a funny little drink with him from Asgard, so even he and Cap were drunk.

"RE- A BLOKE WHO BUYS ME BEEEEEEER…"

"It's the best version," slurred Eva, who had her head in his lap and her feet in Sam's.

"ME- A MAN, I BUY BEER FOR…"

"The tabloids are going to have a field day tomorrow morning," muttered Romanoff, who was watching the men with a faintly amused expression. "We've been kicked out of… three bars now, is it?"

"On our way to a fourth, by the looks of it," replied Pepper, who had the fixed expression of somebody who had been in a similar situation many times before. "Tony, I think it's time to go home, don't you?"

"Pep, sweetheart, I'm gonna have to disagree with you there," replied Tony, "we're only halfway through the song."

"A song you've been singing on repeat for the last half an hour."

"We can change if you want."

"No!"

Eva started giggling, curling up into a ball and rolling off the booth's bench onto the floor.

"Listen- hic- Miss Potts," said Sam, breaking away from the gyrating chain to lean towards the CEO of Stark Industries. "Ev'rybody's completely- hic- fine. We're all just havin' a goo- where's Eva?"

"Under the table," said Vision.

"Oh. Hey, pretty girl."

"Hi, pretty bird man," said Eva, who had stopped giggling and was entering the lethargic state of drunkenness. "Where're your wings?" She crawled back up onto the bench and slouched over the back of it.

"Americans," muttered the red-clad girl, whose name Eva had learnt was Waynard. Wallis. Waleria. Something like that. "Lightweights."

"I think," Eva managed to say, "it's time f'more alclohlohl."

"Perhaps not," said Vision.

"Perhaps _not_ not, by which I mean, perhaps yesly so." Eva became dimly aware of a cool, steady arm wrapping around her waist, and being guided out into the heavy night air. "Where's this?"

"Hush," said Vision, "I'm not letting you try and outdrink a god."

"I can do it."

"I'm sure you can, Eva, but not today."

"Hmmf," she said, as Vision walked with her down the near empty street. "This isn't the way to my flat."

"No," agreed Vision, "but the headquarters are closer, and quite frankly I don't trust you not to carry on drinking in your own apartment."

"But Rachel Carson-"

"Will be fine on her own for one night." She tripped over her own foot, and his grip on her waist tightened. "Careful. You know, you care more about that cat than you do yourself."

"God a problem wi'that, Oompa Loompa?" He didn't answer, and they walked- well, she staggered- along in silence. "Vision?" she said after an indeterminate amount of time, as the HQ's white gates opened silently for them.

"Yes?"

"Of all the friends I've ever hadden, you're the- WANDA!"

"Sorry?"

"Hot red girl's name is Wanda."

"It is indeed." The surface under her feet changed from concrete to smooth white stone, and Eva realized she'd left her graduation hat behind, on the head of Hawkeye. Oops. "Vision?"

"Yes?"

"I think I might be sick in a minute."

"Try and hold it in," he said quickly.

 **A/N we hit 100 reviews and that mean E**


	16. Chapter 16

She woke up in an unused-looking white living quarters, tangled in unfamiliar bedsheets- somebody had taken off her graduation gown and shoes, meaning she was just in the loose dress she had been wearing the previous night. Sunlight streamed in through a large window and she groaned, rolling away from it so she was instead looking at the white couch across the room. Vision was sat on it, reading a battered-looking book- he looked up at the movement.

"Good morning," he said.

"No."

He stood up and walked over to her, and placed a glass of something green on the bedside cabinet. "Hangover cure, according to Mr Stark. Drink all of it."

She propped herself up on her elbow and slowly reached out for the glass. "Where am I?"

"These are my rooms, but for obvious reasons I don't have much use for them."

She took a gulp of the drink and grimaced; it tasted worse than her mouth did already, which was impressive. "What's the time?"

"Just past one in the afternoon. I hope there isn't anyone planning to take over the world today, because we're not terribly well-prepared at present."

"Can you talk quieter, please?" she mumbled, and downed the rest of the glass in one.

"Sorry. I also called into the coffee shop on your behalf, and said you wouldn't be at work today."

"You didn't have to do that," she said, slightly guilty, "I'm enough trouble for you as it is."

"Not at all," he assured her, "remember, I had to look after Tony Stark before, and you're not even remotely at his level. Yet."

She yawned, and the throbbing in her head began to ease a little. "I can't afford to be," she told him, and he smiled crookedly. "What book were you reading?"

"A House of Pomegranates, and other tales," he said, quoting the book title word for word.

She sat up. "Does it have The Selfish Giant in it?"

"I believe so," he said.

"That made me cry. It's what made me interested in gardening in the first place, actually." She stretched, and her spine clicked in four places. "What happened to everyone else?"

"According to Miss Potts, everyone reached their respective homes about an hour after we arrived here. I believe the main thing you missed was Mr Stark trying to arm wrestle Captain Rogers."

"Did he have his suit on?"

"Well, he certainly _thought_ he did. The last time he got so drunk, he ended up going AWOL and the Director of SHIELD tracked him down to an oversized replica of a donut," said Vision, and Eva thought she detected a note of worry in his voice.

"Chill, V, he'll be fine. He had Pepper to look after him, and Colonel Rhodes."

"Who was just as bad," he pointed out.

"As sweet as it is that you're worried about your old boss," she grinned, "he'll be fine without you, I promise. You don't need to look after him anymore." She stood up, the bedsheet still wrapped around her. "Please tell me you have a shower," she said.

"I do. And I found some clothes that should fit you," he said, nodding towards a pile by one of the two doors. "The bathroom's that way."

"Thanks. Vision, I might not have actually got through the whole sentence last night, but I did mean it."

"Mean what?"

"You _are_ the best friend I've ever had."

Vision beamed. "The feeling's quite mutual."

"Good, good." She blinked a few times, then staggered back to the bed. "Y'know what? I think I might go back to sleep," she said, and collapsed backwards. "If you feel like reading me a bedtime story, you're very welcome to."

She had been joking, but nonetheless Vision went and retrieved his book from the couch before sitting cross-legged beside her on the bed. His voice, it turned out, was perfect for reading, and Eva's last thought before she drifted off was that if anyone were to narrate the story of her life, she wanted it to be him.

"Every afternoon, as they were coming home from school, the children used to go and play in the giant's garden. It was a large and lovely garden, with soft green grass. Here and there over the grass stood beautiful flowers like stars…"

 **A/N I saw Mad Max last weekend and oh my god (it's worth noting that I have loved Charlize Theron with all my heart since I was about twelve)**


	17. Chapter 17: The Winter Soldier

"So," said Sam, leaning against the counter during the usual pre-lunch lull in customers, "who's the weirdest person you've ever had in here?"

"You wanna rethink that question?" she asked him, as she declogged the coffee machine.

"Ah, right. Who's the weirdest non-Avenger person you've ever had in here?" he amended.

She thought about it. "We had a guy who thought he was the next Tolstoy, and told me all about this big profound story he'd written. For an hour and a half. Oh, and how the publishers had all turned it down because they didn't _get_ it," she added, and kneed the underside of the machine.

It made a sound like an asthmatic Darth Vader and rattled back into life; Mr G refused to pay for another one on the basis that the money was being spent on her wages. Oddly, he refused to give her a raise because he said the money was needed for machine maintenance.

"Although to be fair, that could apply to a good fifty per cent of the guys we get in here," she added, as dregs of milk dripped into the catch-tray.

"Anyone else?" asked Sam, fiddling with the sugar dispensers.

"Uh… I had this tramp guy come in once, who looked pretty confused by everything," she recalled.

 _He was tall but not remarkably so, and looked powerfully built, unusually for someone of his attire. He had a scruffy beard, and his overlong dark hair was stuffed underneath a dirty cap._

 _"Afternoon," said Eva, "what can I get you, sir?"_

 _He blinked, as if she was the first person who had spoken to him in a very long time. "I… what's the cheapest thing you do?" he asked._

 _They didn't normally get homeless in here; most of them knew that everything was overpriced, and that Mr G was unforgiving towards beggars. But the guy didn't look like her knew any of that. "Leave it to me," she said, "and go grab that corner table, I'll bring it over."_

 _She made him a simple coffee and a slice of carrot cake, too, and carried it over to him. "Here," she said, "twelve dollars, please."_

 _The man pulled one hand out of his pocket that had been clutching at a couple of one dollar bills and some quarters; she watched his face fall as he realized he had nowhere near enough, and her heart twisted in sympathy for him._

 _"Hey," she said, "it's on the house. Now eat it quick, before my boss notices and takes it out on the both of us."_

 _The guy looked up at her with dull eyes. "Thanks," he said hoarsely._

 _"No problem, dude, so long as you scram in ten minutes." She winked at him, and returning to the counter she kept an eye on him the rest of the time he was in there._

"I mean, that was all kinda odd anyway, but you know the weirdest part?" she said to Sam. "While he was eating, he used his other hand, and it looked like it was made of metal. I didn't realise they were that advanced with prosthetics yet." She shrugged.

Sam stared at her, his eyes wide. "He had a metal arm?" he said, tensely.

"Hand- it could've been his entire arm, I guess, but he had a coat on so I couldn't see. Why?"

"How long ago was this?" he asked.

"Uh… few months ago, I guess? I'm not sure, sorry. Sam, what's up? Who is he?"

Sam leant across the counter and kissed her. "You're amazing," he said, and ran out of the shop.

Eva stood there for a couple of seconds in a state of shock. "Guess I'll never know what that was about," she said to herself.

%

The rest of her shift passed without incident, and she tried to keep her mind off the kiss. She walked back to her apartment, unlocked the door and the post sifted beneath it as she pushed it open; groaning internally, she leafed through the brown envelopes until she came to one with _Kresk & Kresk _printed in sans serif font across one corner. _Uh oh._

She slit the envelope open with her thumbnail, and a printout of a news article fell out of it. _EARTH'S MIGHTIEST HEROES GATECRASH GRADUATION CEREMONY BEFORE NIGHT OUT ON THE TOWN_ , it screamed, along with a blurry picture of all of them plus her staggering down a dusky street. The only other thing in the envelope was a single sheet of A4 with her parents' names on the bottom, lacking even a signature.

She read it, read it again, then crumpled the letter up and dropped it to the floor. She needed to vent, or her anger would turn inwards and tear her apart, but she didn't want to call Vision, lest she sound weak. Instead, she just tweeted vaguely yet angrily about the contents of the letter, and went out.

She returned half an hour later with a packet of bleach, some hair scissors and a bottle of vodka. After a couple of dunks, she slicked the paste onto her hair and played the score to _The Nutcracker_ on full volume while she waited for it to take effect, then stuck her head under the kitchen tap and rinsed it all off. With the noise from the stereo and the plumbing there to cover it up, she allowed herself to cry, biting her lip against the sobs as hot water pounded over her scalp. Her relationship with her parents had never been good, but she could never have imagined it coming to _this_.

She towel-dried her hair, yanked a brush through it and, without a mirror, pulled a clump to one side and cut off the now-white locks, the long tresses having been the one thing that made her look similar to her mother. Hacking them away, she froze as someone knocked on the door, the sound barely audible over _The Dance of the Sugar Plum fairy_.

"Who is it?" she called out.

"Me," Vision replied, "I saw your tweet."

"You _follow_ me?"

"I see everything on the internet, remember? Can I come in?"

"I guess," she said, hoping her eyes weren't still bloodshot. The door opened and Rachel Carson meowed sadly, brushing against his legs as he walked over to her.

"What happened?" he asked.

"They disowned me," she said, and her voice broke. "They saw me in the news, and said I would disgrace their name and their freaking company. It's all been legally done, already." She dropped he scissors and pressed her hands to her mouth. "Oh, God. I'm such a wreck."

Wordlessly, Vision picked up the scissors, and she felt his fingers brush the nape of her neck and he trimmed her uneven hair. "I'm sorry," he said, after having given her a couple minutes of silence.

"It was long overdue," she said, "I just… I didn't think they would actually do it. They said they would when I came up here to do my degree instead of joining the company, but bottled it at the last moment. I thought they wouldn't have the nerve."

"The closest thing I have to a parent tried to drive humanity into extinction," said Vision, "if that makes you feel any better."

"It doesn't, but it's nice knowing I'm not the only disappointment to my family."

"I think we both have good reasons to be so," said Vision.

"They didn't even write the letter, V. They typed it, on company paper. The last contact they would ever have with their only daughter, and they did it via a damn computer. No offense."

"None taken." He laid down the scissors, and brushed the hair from her shoulders. "If you want to be cheered up, I believe Sam is planning on taking you on a surprise date tomorrow."

She turned to stare at him. "What?!"

"Ah," said Vision, "I probably shouldn't have told you that. Somewhat reduces the 'surprise' element of it."

She ran her hands through her new hair. "Oh my God. I'm going on a date tomorrow."

"I can tell him you don't want to go," offered Vision.

"Huh? Of course I want to go! Not entirely sure why he wants to take me on a date, not that I'm complaining. But… I'm a hot mess."

"You are indeed," Vision smiled, "and that's a lot better than an ordinary mess. But you don't have to go if you don't want to, Eva. You've just received bad news, you're allowed to take a day for yourself."

"No," she said, "If I do that, I'm just gonna wallow in self-pity and cheap booze. I need distracting. And besides, at least now I'm shot of my crappy family, right?" she added, with false bravado.

"If you're sure." Vision kissed her forehead. "I need to go. Take care of yourself, Eva."

"You too, V. Saving the world's a dangerous business."

"I can imagine dating Sam Wilson is, too."

"Ha, ha."

 **A/N big chapter- more like two chapters in one, really. Updating a day early because I'm out of town tomorrow, and then it's the summer holidays, so twice-weekly updates might soon become a thing again... even if I will be very busy a) eating, b) sleeping, and c) marathoning Being Human. It's a hard life.**


	18. Chapter 18

They were seated at an outdoor table in a café that fringed one of the many parks in New York; she suspected Vision had given Sam the idea.

"Now, before this gets any further," said Sam, waving his beer bottle, "I need to check- what is there going' on between you and the robot?"

Eva choked on her own drink. "Oh, God. Nothing."

Sam looked at her disbelievingly. "You seem pretty close."

"We are! But friends, I promise. Like-" she put down her bottle and meshed her fingers together "- like, a really intense bromance. But he's a robot. As charming and funny and arguably quite attractive for a purple guy with a gem in the middle of his forehead-"

"Slow down, girl."

"-I don't wanna date him," she finished, "or anything else along those lines, I swear. I wouldn't have come out otherwise."

Sam leant back in his chair. "Good," he said, "kinda felt like that was the elephant in the room, y'know?"

She smirked over the rim of the bottle. "Glad it's out of the way, then. Any news on the homeless guy I brought up the other day?"

"Why?" Sam asked.

"Well," she said, "last time he was the topic of conversation, you kissed me and then buggered off. Kind of wanna pick up where we left off, I have to say."

Sam matched her grin. "We don't have to talk about that guy in order to do that, pretty girl."

%

In the small hours of the following morning, Eva left Sam sleeping in his room of the Avengers HQ, pulled on his hoodie and crept out of his room and along the hallway, praying there weren't any night time patrols or anything. She chewed her lip, wondering where the kitchen was and if she would be let in, when she heard footsteps behind her. She spun round.

"Oh," she whispered, "thank God."

Vision glanced at what she was- or rather, what she wasn't- wearing and beckoned her into his own room, which was a couple of doors along from Sam's.

"You know," he said, closing the door behind her, "you're not signed in."

"Oh. Is that bad? Was I signed in last time I came here?"

"I wouldn't worry about it," replied Vision. "What are you doing walking around at four in the morning?"

"Looking for food. I worked up an appetite… I'm not going to finish that sentence," she decided, and Vision chuckled. "Although I guess you're used to that kinda stuff, what with Stark."

"Far too familiar," he agreed, "enough to put one off the entire thing. Did you have a nice evening?"

"It wasn't bad," she said, and started to giggle. "Sorry. This is so weird."

"I wouldn't know," Vision said, and threw her an apple. "Sorry, I don't have anything else and I know about as much of the food and where they keep it here as you do."

"Why do you have this?" she asked, turning the apple over in her hands.

"The janitorial staff keep leaving a bowl of them in here. I suppose they think I get visitors enough to warrant them, and I haven't felt the need to tell them otherwise."

"Oh, my God!" She ran across the room and flung her arms around him. "V, that's the most unintentionally sad thing I've ever heard," she said into his chest, "remind me to visit more often."

"You don't have to," he told her, patting her a little awkwardly on the head. "Besides, the security don't seem to like you much."

"Well, I don't like 'em much either," she said, releasing him and taking a bite of the apple. It was slightly overripe, but it would do. "How've you been, anyway?"

"You only saw me yesterday," Vision reminded her.

"Yeah, but I wasn't really in the mood for chitchat. How's life as a person treating ya? Be honest, V. Four a.m. is not the time to hold things back."

He smiled. "It's odd," he said, "very odd. Feelings are strange."

"Tell me about it. You mean you didn't have them when you were still just Jarvis?"

"I had… shadows of them, I think. Mainly it was either concern for, or amusement regarding Mr Stark." She laughed. "But now, everything's a thousand times stronger. It hurts, sometimes."

"Damn son, you gotta stop bringing the vibes down," she said drily. "Don't worry, feelings happen to the best of us. Just got to suppress them until every soft spot is compressed together into something stronger than steel and you become cold, emotionless and unbreakable," she finished, her tone bright.

"I'd rather not."

"Well," she said, "let's agree to disagree." She threw the apple core across the room into the trashcan. "Night, Vision."

"Good morning, Eva."

 **A/N I'm going to see Ant-Man tomorrow, so there** ** _may_** **be a bonus chapter regarding a certain too-small-for-fun-sized superhero coming out during this week, as well as the usual update on Friday. If you're lucky, that is.**


	19. Chapter 19: Ant-Man (SPOILERS)

It appeared Eva was becoming a magnet for every super in the US, and a couple more on top. This week, it was Ant-Man.

It started on Monday, when Sam came in during the early afternoon looking really rather dishevelled. The rest of the Avengers were spread far and wide across the globe Avenging and he was the only one not on an op, so she was surprised to see him looking decidedly battered.

"What happened to you?" she asked him, rather less sympathetically than a girlfriend should.

He mumbled indistinctly in response, and she raised an eyebrow at him.

"Sorry?" she asked. "Didn't quite catch that."

"I got beat up," he said, a little louder.

"So? You get beat up all the time, it's your job. What's so special?" she narrowed her eyes at him. "Was it another super?"

"No. Yeah. Kinda."

"You wanna tell me about it?"

"No," he muttered, and she grinned.

"Darlin', it'll make you feel better."

"… he was really small," he finally admitted.

She paused over the coffee she was making him. "What, like four foot eight?"

Instead of speaking, Sam held up his hand with his thumb and forefinger held about an inch away from each other.

She stared at him.

"He had a suit that made him shrink," Sam elaborated, radiating embarrassment.

"You- you got the shit beaten up out of you by a pixie," she stated, and began sniggering.

"Shut up, Eva. It's not funny."

"Oh, no. Sorry," she said, managing to stop for a whole ten seconds before doubling over and starting to wheeze again. "Dude… oh, my God… this- this is freakin' ridiculous…"

Sam glared at her as she howled silently, tears streaming down her face. "You're an asshole."

%

On Thursday, Sam was back- this time with a scruffy guy who appeared to be enjoying Sam's company much more than the other way round.

"I mean, honestly," he was saying as they walked in, "this is such an honour. Like, I would totally understand if you wanted to throw me against a brick wall a few times- not that you could- but this is great. You're a better man than me, Mr Wilson. Seriously."

"Morning," said Eva, "who's the date?"

"Don't," muttered Sam.

"Wait- _wait_ \- is he the tiny guy who beat you up?" she asked, and the guy extended a hand.

"Scott Lang," he introduced himself as, "or Ant-Man. Whichever you prefer. Although Scott would be better. Who calls themselves Ant-Man, huh?"

"You don't look very small," Eva said, stating the obvious.

"It's optional," he told her, and raised an eyebrow as she began to giggle.

"Dude, thank you. Your drink is on the house," she told him, still chuckling away as she turned to the machine. "Anyone who bruises the great Falcon's ego is a hero in my book."

"Unbelievable," Sam said, and his phone bleeped. "I gotta go," he said, "work stuff."

"But what about our reconciliation drinks?" Scott asked, pulling a sad puppy-dog face.

"Don't push it, Bug Boy. See ya later," he added to Eva, and left.

"Tell me _everything_ ," said Eva, clocking off her shift and making herself a drink.

%

On Saturday, her new best friend Scott was back, along with a pretty woman with the most intense bob she had ever seen.

"Hope," Scott said cheerfully, "this is my buddy Eva. Eva, this is Hope, and I'm the love of her life."

"Go to hell," Hope told him, but she was smiling. "Soy latte, please."

"Sure. Same as last time for you, Scott?"

"Is it still free?"

"How hard did you hit Sam?"

"Like, super really hard. And I threw him a couple of times, too."

"Go on, then," she said, "but this is the last time."

"You're the real superhero, Eva Kresk." He winked at her as he took the mugs and strolled after Hope.

%

Sunday was the last time Eva saw Scott Lang, and it wasn't even at work. Instead, she was walking through Central Park when she heard him call her name, and turned to see the superhero waving at her along with a girl who wasn't yet tall enough to reach his hip.

 _Plot twist_ , she thought. "Afternoon, Bug Boy and… super cute sidekick?"

The girl grinned toothily. "Daddy, I'm your sidekick!"

"Actually," Eva continued, "she seems much too badass to be your sidekick. If anything, I'd say your hers."

"I am mortally offended by that," Scott retorted, hand over his heart as the little girl clapped her hands in delight. "I'm actually the most badass person in the world, in case you hadn't noticed."

"If you say so," she grinned. "I didn't know you had a daughter."

"Neither did I. She just started following me around New York, didn't you, peanut? I can't seem to shake her."

"He's being silly," the girl told her.

"He's a very silly person, from what I've gathered."

"Uh," said Scott, " _rude_."

"So your name's peanut then, kid."

"No!" she laughed, rolling her eyes. "I'm Cassie."

"Well, Cassie, that is a horrifying toy rabbit you've got there."

"I got him for my birthday and I love him!" she exclaimed, cuddling the satanic creation to her chest.

Eva raised her eyebrow at Scott. "I wonder who gave you that."

He stuck his tongue out at her and lifted Cassie up onto his shoulders. "I've had enough of being insulted by coffee girls. I mean, God, Eva, stop _stalking_ me. Or are you another bad guy who I'm going to have to defeat in a suitably dashing and heroic way? If you are, you'll have to wait until we've finished our day out. We're very busy, I'll have you know."

She laughed, shaking her head. "You should be so lucky. Have a nice day, Super-Cassie and her fun-sized sidekick."

"Fun-sized is the best size!" Scott called after her as she walked away.

 _If that kid wasn't there, I could make so many dick jokes in response to that_ , she thought.

 **A/N everyone's favourite ant-based superhero. I've started putting names of characters on the chapters they first appear in, to make it easier to find your favs. Apologies if the grammar's worse than usual, I haven't had time to proof-read.**


	20. Chapter 20

"Where are we going?" Vision asked, as Eva dragged him by the hand through the crowded avenue. "Central Park?"

"For once, no. This is me being your friend, for once, instead of you being _my_ friend."

"I… I'm not quite sure I understood that," Vision said.

"Not sure I did, either. We're here." She gestured to a large and beautiful white stone building fronted by four pairs of white pillars, with shallow steps leading up to them. People gave them funny looks as they walked past, but this being New York, they didn't say anything.

"The Metropolitan Museum of Art," Vision observed, eyes studying the banner across the central doorway.

"Yeah. Everything you want to learn about humanity is within those walls, V. Love, loss, war and peace, weird naked statue people… every artist is just trying to capture what it is to be a person when they work, however they do it. If you want to understand us, this is how." She inhaled, having said all of that in one rushed breath. "Also, the Roof Garden is the best café in the city. They even do tea." She gave him a hopeful look.

His eyes went from the museum to her, and he broke out into the same smile she had seen when she first served him. "Eva," he said, "this is wonderful."

"I do my best," she shrugged. "Hell, I even bought a ticket for you." She knocked her shoulder against his arm affectionately. "You want to go in, Oompa-Loompa, or just stand there gawping?"

"Where would you like to start?" he asked her, as they climbed the steps.

"Sweetheart, this is your day. You choose."

"Please," he said, and she rolled her eyes.

"Fine. Let's go to the gothic bit."

They had arrived just as it opened and were practically the last people to leave; Vision would stand motionless in front of the pictures, a little further back so he was not obstructing anyone else's view, with an expression Eva had never seen before on anyone else, ever. Eva, for whom art held very little interest after a prolonged period of time, spent most of the day sat on a variety of uncomfortable benches either listening to Tchaikovsky in her earphones- it seemed to suit the area so well- or watching him with a small smile on her face.

When he was finally done and the sun had given up to city to night, they sat in the half-full rooftop garden with a pot of tea between them that only she drank, and she grilled him about the art- not just what it was, but what he liked, what he didn't like, what made sense to him and what just seemed ridiculous.

"Every person's gotta have opinions," she told him sagely, and eventually they figured out he seemed to prefer the Hellenistic and Greek stuff the most. Eventually they were shooed out of the museum, and she took him back to her flat and they watched Bo Burnham gigs- "the pinnacle of human comedy, V"- until she fell asleep on his shoulder and he seemed to enter a sort of meditative state. Neither of them said it aloud, but it was the best day either of them had ever had- no aliens invading, no getting catastrophically drunk, just friends.

Really, really weird friends.

 **A/N so I'm trying to keep this (and Finding Bucky, and my other MCU fic I am yet to publish) completely canon-compliant, but I'm very paranoid about timelines- specifically, that Civil War will be set less than a year after Age of Ultron. So if it is, I will a) be writing a strongly worded letter of complaint to Stan Lee, and b) be making a slight alteration to canon in order to make timelines work because, let's face it, we all want to see Eva do Christmas with the Avengers. So regardless of what time frame Civil War is actually in, in this universe it will be set a year after AoU. Aside from that, Coffee Run can 100% exist in the MCU without any problems.**


	21. Chapter 21: Loki

In graveyard shifts, Eva liked to think about the weirder customers they got at the coffee shop. Tonight, she had had an English hipster ask for a double espresso, which had triggered the memory of a man who had come in about just under a year before Ultron- and, more importantly, Vision- had turned up.

 _"Good afternoon, sir, what can I do for you?"_

 _"Whatever you recommend," replied the man smoothly. As she did with Sam, she went for the most expensive drink she could think of._

 _She watched him out of the corner of her eye as she worked; tall and slim, pale with long dark hair nearly hidden beneath his hood, and- not to put too fine a point on it- hot as dicks. His accent had sounded similar to Vision's but older somehow… more archaic._

 _"You not from around these parts, huh?" she asked, despite herself._

 _He smirked. "Not even remotely."_

 _"Please feel free to not go into details," she said, and then smirk grew more pronounced._

 _"So," he said, "this is where the Avengers come to drink."_

 _"Depends on what kinda drink you're talking about," she replied coolly, "and we aren't a tourist spot."_

 _"Good thing I'm not a tourist, then," he said._

 _"Hmm."_

 _"Thor came here recently," the man persisted. "The god of-"_

 _"I know who Thor is, dude. Chill. And if you're some… creepy stalker fanboy or whatever, I ain't telling you crap."_

 _"I'm not-" he paused "-whatever you just said. And I just wanted to know if he came here."_

 _"Why?"_

 _"Friendly concern," the man snapped. He did sound like Thor, actually, and he had a similar demeanour- although he seemed to take up much less space, as if he preferred to stick to shadows._

 _"Why do you care?"_

 _"It's none of your business why I care, girl."_

 _She dropped the drink on the counter and raised an eyebrow at the window of the till, which was flashing the price. "Whenever you feel like paying," she said._

 _The man continued to glower at her for a moment, but then bit his tongue and handed over a fifty-dollar bill. "Keep the change," he said shortly, adjusted the collar of his green jacket, and stalked out of the building._

 _"Hey, cheekbones. Hold up."_

 _He turned, flung the door back open dramatically and glared at her. "Well?" he demanded._

 _"I ain't seen him round for a while," she said, "but if something had happened to him, I would know. Wherever he is, he's as safe as a warrior prince can get."_

 _He stalked back towards her, eyes narrowed slightly. "Why tell me this now?"_

 _"What harm can you do?" she shrugged. "Should I tell him you were asking after him?"_

 _"No," said the man immediately, then turned away again. He was half out of the door before he hesitated, and looked over his shoulder. "Thank you, serving girl."_

 _"You're welcome, Hamlet. Now get outta my shop."_

 _He smirked, and stepped out into the crowds._

 _Eva held the bill to her nose, smelt the wealth, and reluctantly dropped it into the till._

 _"Weirdo," she said, looking out of the window- but the man had disappeared._

 **A/N (shameless self-promotion warning) A Loki chapter, huh? This seems like the perfect time to plug my new Loki/OC fanfiction, Of Mice and Mischief Makers. Do you like mice? Do you like mischief makers? Do you like the slightly erratic writing of me, but want chapters to be several times longer than they are in this fic? Then go check it out! OMAMM exists in the same canon universe as Coffee Run and Finding Bucky, and the first chapter takes place just after Loki leaves Eva's coffee shop. I'll love you 5ever if you go have a look. (shameless self-promotion complete)**


	22. Chapter 22

"Vision?" she said, a little nervously one evening as they sat in her poky apartment on a mess of pillows, Rachel Carson curled up between them and _Carrie_ muted on the television. The Avengers had been away for a couple of weeks, and she had been unable to contact them; it was the longest she had gone without talking to Vision since they had met, and although she wouldn't admit it, she had missed him. Sam too, though perhaps not quite as much. She hadn't bared her soul to him yet.

"Eva?"

"Your computer internet brain means you know everything, right?"

"Not quite," he said. "Why do you ask?"

"Sam wants to take me to a dance," she confessed, "like, a proper swing dance club. And I have never, _ever_ danced. And it's kinda hard to learn off youtube tutorials."

"You want me to teach you how to dance?" Vision asked, scratching Rachel Carson between the ears.

"Do you know how?"

"In theory," he said, his eyes un- and refocusing as he no doubt googled it, "although I've never tried."

"We can learn together," she said, "and then maybe I won't look like a complete moron tomorrow." She pulled out her phone, connected it to her stereo and scrolled through until she found something that wasn't classical, ending up on a grainy Elvis song.

"You wouldn't anyway," Vision told her, pulling her to her feet and to the small patch of floor that wasn't covered in pillows. He guided one of her hands to his shoulder and held the other out to one side.

"So how was your super secret mission?" she asked him, as he slowly showed her the steps.

"Very confidential."

She sighed. "One day, I'll get something out of y'all. One day."

"Feel free to keep trying," said Vision. "Can I ask you something?"

"Depends. What is it?"

He looked away for a moment, seeming a little confused. "I don't understand fashion," he said, "why some people adhere to it and others-"

Her laughing cut him off. "Seriously? Of all the batshit crazy stuff in this world, and you're confused by fashion? Although I suppose it'd make sense, considering the cape."

"I… feel like that was an insult."

"Don't take it personally." She tried to figure out how to explain it to him. "Uber rich people design ridiculous clothes every month, high street shops make cheaper versions that are slightly less weird, and if people like it, they buy it."

"But why does it change?"

"I dunno. So we can look back at what we were wearing twenty years ago and laugh? I mean, have you seen the nineties?"

"And not everyone ascribes to it."

"Nope. There's like… always an alternative fashion too, if you don't like what's happening in the mainstream, or you're a hipster. But I don't want to talk about hipsters, they remind me of work."

He lifted his arm and she spun beneath it. "It all seems somewhat pointless."

"Dude," she said, "ninety per cent of the stuff humans do is pointless. Like dancing."

"Don't you enjoy it?" he asked.

"I'm enjoying it _now_ ," she replied, "in a room full of people including my hot date it might be a little different."

%

"Oh, my God," said Eva, fanning herself as Sam approached her outside the entrance to the 1950s-esque club. "Oh, my God. I'd forgotten you had a military uniform. Holy crap."

He grinned. "You don't scrub up too badly yourself, Miss Monroe," he replied smoothly, as they walked inside.

"Please," she huffed, "just because I bleached my hair. If anything, I'm Grace Kelly."

It was a gorgeous ballroom, with a varnished dancefloor, chandeliers dangling precariously from the ceiling, and a live band on the poky stage.

"You got good taste, Avenger Wilson," she said.

"Well," he said, "it was suggested to me, actually."

"Let me guess- by a fellow super who was born during the first world war?"

"Possibly. So, pretty girl, you know how to dance?"

"Kinda," she said, "I might have to rely on you a little bit."

"Works for me."

It turned out that the dancing was a lot faster and more exhilarating that what she had tried before, and Eva adored it. Two hours later, breathless and laughing, Sam took her to the bar and ordered them both strong drinks.

"We gotta do this more often," she panted, bending around a stitch in her side. She hadn't had this much exercise since tenth grade.

"I'll drink to that," said Sam, clinking his glass against hers.

 **A/N the chapter after this one is my favourite one so far I AM SO EXCITED**


	23. Chapter 23

"Who is this?" barked the security guard through the intercom.

"Good morning, Pete, you sexy bastard."

"Kresk," said the man shortly, "flash your ID, then."

After she had, the gates swung open and she tore down the driveway, where a scowling Pete was waiting for her.

"Where are they?" she asked him, grabbing the drinks out of her courier box.

"Round the back lawn," he replied shortly, "national holidays apply to Earth's Mightiest Heroes too, apparently."

"They deserve 'em." She walked around the perimeter of the building towards the sounds of wood hitting ball and an occasional yell.

"Good afternoon, Eva."

"Hey, V," she said, as he took half the drinks from her and walked with her the rest of the way, to where the new Avengers had set up an impromptu baseball game. "How's it hangin'?"

"Not too bad. How are you? Any luck with a job in one of the parks?"

"Not yet," she replied, "but I'm more optimistic than what I was before I graduated. Also, I have bought an inspirational poster of Leslie Knope which I look at every morning as I make breakfast, and she keeps me strong. Aren't you playing ball?"

He shook his head. "I'd much rather watch," he said, and went back to standing next to the other spectator, Romanoff, who was slightly less intimidating in Muggle clothes. Slightly.

"Killjoy."

Captain America was bowling, Sam batting. "You ready for this, Wilson?" yelled the supersoldier, his biceps looking magnificent in the sunlight.

"Bring it, popsicle!"

"You asked for it," said Cap, and hurled the ball. To Sam's credit, he did hit it- but the impact shattered the bat and Rhodes, who was backstop, caught it and staggered back a few feet.

"Dude," said Sam, "you gotta stop doing that!"

"Sore loser, Falcon?" asked Romanoff, smirking.

"Look," said Sam, "I ain't cool with playing this with superheroes. Especially when she-" he jabbed a finger in the direction of Wanda "-keeps using her magic to catch the goddamn ball!"

"It's not magic," said Wanda, smiling faintly at Sam's distress.

"So," said Eva to Vision, "have they spent more time playing, or arguing?"

"Almost definitely the latter."

"Almost definitely," she repeated, nodding. She looked on wistfully as a uniformed guy threw Sam another bat from a pile in one corner. "As much as I wanna stay and watch this, I should get back to work."

"Have fun."

"Oh," she said, handing a guard the rest of the drinks, " _totally_. Don't get sunstroke."

"I doubt I can."

 **A/N there's more Ultron/OC fics than there are Falcon/OC fics and I don't know what to say to that tbh. Also I think we can all agree that supers doing normal-people stuff like baseball is the best thing EVER**


	24. Chapter 24: Daredevil

Two guys in suits, one with long hair and one with smoked glasses, were next in line. "Can I help you?" Eva asked, having been on autopilot for the last two hours.

"What have you got?" the one in glasses asked, and she pointed at the menu board above her head.

The other one chuckled. "Yeah, uh, that's not gonna help him unless you want to wait for me to read out the entire thing."

She noticed the cane in the first speaker's hand, put two and two together with the glasses, and mentally kicked herself. "Shit, I'm sorry. Just… tell me something and I'll see if I can make it."

"Do you do tea?" the bespectacled one asked, and she grinned.

"I feel like I've been waiting my entire life for someone to ask me that," she said with relief, and he laughed.

"Happy to be of service," he smiled, and his friend looked up at the ceiling and sighed heavily.

As she turned round to brew the tea, she listened idly to their conversation. "Matt, I swear to G- I swear that you have a sixth sense when it comes to pretty women. You're not even trying any more, dude."

"I was just being nice," Matt replied, and the other laughed disbelievingly.

"I hope you realize this place is so expensive, neither of us will be able to eat for the next week. At least the cafes in Hell's Kitchen are cheap."

"Their only redeeming quality," Matt responded.

"You guys're from Hell's Kitchen?" Eva asked, pouring hot water into the teapot and laying a tray with two cups. "I used to live round there. Hear they've got their very own vigilante now."

The two men exchanged smiled in unison. "We've seen him around," said Matt.

"Yeah," added the other, "everyone thinks he's a really good guy, but in my experience he's kind of a dick."

"As are most costumes," said Eva, "here's your tea. Ten dollars, please."

"You can pay," said the long-haired one quickly, "it was your idea to come here." 

"Then you can take the tray."

"Oh, like I wasn't going to anyway?" he asked, as Matt handed over a bill and two-dollar tip.

"Cheers." She unfolded the bill and found a business card tucked within it. _Nelson and Murdock: Attorneys at Law_ , it read, along with a phone number and address. She raised an eyebrow. "You really that desperate?" she asked.

"We're kind of new to this," one told her, picking up the tray.

"Have a nice day, ma'am."

"You too, gentlemen." 

**A/N so the thing that finally spurred me into beginning to watch Daredevil was that it's mentioned in a recent Harley Quinn comic. Which was awesome.**


	25. Chapter 25

It was Eva's day off, so she had decided to spend it lying face-down on the floor of her apartment, alone, blasting Tchaikovsky's 1812 overture on repeat and moving only to get food and vodka. Around 2pm, when Rachel Carson was dozing peacefully on her ass and Eva was on her second punnet of strawberries, the post dropped through the door and onto her head.

"Ouch!" she pulled the envelopes off of her head and leafed through them; bills, bills, rejection letter, bills, envelope from the HOPE outdoor art gallery back home… "huh?"

She opened it.

 _Dear Miss Kresk,_

 _Having heard that an Austin native had graduated in New York with a degree in forestry and agriculture, we felt compelled to contact you about a temporary exhibit we are establishing in your current city._

HOPE, despite its concreteness, had always been one of Eva's favorite places in Austin- one of the designs graffitied on the walls there had become her first tattoo, sprawled across one of her hips. It turned out the gallery would be combining its usual graffiti with an abandoned public garden in New York; a garden they wanted her to redesign.

"SHIT ON MY ACTUAL DICK!" she yelled, terrifying Rachel Carson. "SOMEBODY WANTS ME TO DO A THING!"

She did a quick google search of the site, grabbed her bike helmet, dropped it again when she remembered she had spent the day drinking, and ran down the stairs. She spent the rest of the day wandering (and staggering a little, due to the amount of alcohol in her system) round the small overrun patch of land, a higgledy-piggledy mess of concrete walls and patches of scrub, sketching out a rough blueprint of what was already there. As she worked, her mind kept creeping back to one thing.

 _Somebody actually wants me to do a thing,_ she mused. _I'm not a waste of space, Vision was right. Holy crap. I… I would have given up ages ago if it wasn't for someone believing in me, and now I'm designing my own garden. I owe him._

%

She waited until she next saw him to tell him, which was his turn to do the coffee run a few days later. "So guess what," she beamed.

"Enlighten me," he replied, smiling even though he didn't know yet- her happiness must have been rubbing off on him.

"I got a job. Designing a garden. A public one. And I'm getting paid for it."

"I told you that you were brilliant," said Vision.

"I wouldn't go that far, but… thank you for being the confidence in me that I never had, V. I needed it."

"It was completely justified," he said. "Have you told Sam?"

She shook her head. "You're the first person."

"I'm honoured," he replied. "Does this mean you can resign from here, now?"

"God, no. They're not paying me that much and besides, it's just a one off job. But it's a start."

"It is that," he agreed. "I'm sure you will excel in it."

"Which is good, because I'm freaking terrified I'll mess it up and end up stuck here for the rest of my life."

"That won't happen," he said, "I have faith in you, Eva."

"You're so great for my ego," she said. "It's a good thing my self-esteem levels are subterranean, or my head would be too big to fit through the door."

"You make a pleasant change from the Avengers," he said, then hesitated. "Please don't tell them I said that."

"Wouldn't dream of it, my cloaked computer friend."

 **A/N part of the AoU gag reel is Chris Hemsworth making out with Paul Bettany on the bit where Thor and Vision are talking on the balcony and in that moment I have never been more envious of Chris Hemsworth**


	26. Chapter 26

The things Eva loved always seemed to end up inked onto her body one way or another; trees, the iconic few bars of Tchaikovsky's Waltz of the Flowers, graffiti from her home city- the only exception was the name of some guy she had completely forgotten in tiny letters, but that was in a place most people didn't see, so it wasn't much of a problem. So when the money for her public garden came in, she went straight to the tattoo parlour for a sleeve on her other arm.

It was a stark contrast to the first one; instead of trees, a few thick black lines ran vertically up her wrist, slanting occasionally; circuitry markings, like for a computer. She wondered if Sam would be pissed she didn't get Falcon wings. She next saw Vision that afternoon, working the lull shift in the coffee shop- she couldn't be sure, because he wasn't the most emotive of people, but he seemed to be quite flattered.

"I want to become like a walking mural," she said, leaning over the counter to talk to him. "I must look so punk rock now, with the hair and the tattoos and all that jazz."

"They suit you," said Vision, "you're becoming gradually more and more intimidating."

"Good. Scare off the weak ones." He laughed, and the bell above the door tinkled as it opened. "V, I wanna pose something to you."

"What?"

She glanced uneasily at the people staring at them. "Every now and again, d'you… d'you wanna wear like, Muggle clothes?"

"Pardon?"

"Like- not jeans and stuff, you're too posh for jeans. Buy a suit, you could work a suit."

"Thank you," he said, "is this because the cape embarrasses you?"

"No! Yes. A little bit. But not just that, I… you wanna be more like us, right?"

"Right."

She nodded. "Then we buy you a nice suit. You don't have to wear it all the- oh, hell."

"What is it?" he asked, as she stiffened.

"My parents. Just- don't talk to them, okay?"

They were both dressed in gray suits (speak of the fashion devil); he was tall and wide, with a bland complexion; she, like her daughter was short and slim, with dark hair pulled back into a neat updo. They both carried briefcases- Eva suspected there wasn't actually anything in them, and that they were only for effect.

Although Eva would never admit it, her parents were similar to her in that they didn't look twice at the 6'3 purple caped man stood talking to their daughter. In fact, they didn't even look once; they completely ignored him, which Eva (correctly) guessed had never happened before in the history of ever.

"Hello, Evaline," said Mrs Kresk.

"Good morning, ma'am. What would you like to drink?" she said coldly.

"Evaline," said her father, "we are your parents, not your customers."

"Really? Because I was under the assumption that I didn't have any," she said. "Now, what would you-"

"We saw about your public garden in the _Statesman_ ," said Mr Kresk, "and wanted to congratulate you."

"Why, 'cuz I'm not a disgrace to the family name anymore?" she asked incredulously, giving up on the pretence.

"Because, Evaline, not _cuz_."

"Ha! You have no right to tell me how to talk, to do anything. I am not your daughter, remember? You both made that perfectly clear."

"How dare you talk to your mother like that?"

"I'll talk to her however the hell I want, since she ain't my damn mother!"

"Listen to me, young lady. We have extended a laurel leaf to you, you do _not_ brush us aside. We have done nothing wrong."

"You have done _everything_ wrong! Why else do you think I moved to the other end of the country?" she gritted her teeth. "Get out."

"We're not-"

"You impudent _child_!" snarled her mother. "We should never have let you leave home!"

"I can't believe this!" cried Eva. "I'm not a little kid, _your_ kid even less! You don't get to pick and choose to have a daughter whenever it suits you!"

"You are our flesh and blood, Evaline," snapped her father, "no matter what a piece of paper may say."

"Didn't think like that a couple weeks ago though, did you?"

Kresk opened his mouth and raised a warning finger, but was cut off before he could speak.

"I think you should leave," said Vision, perfectly calmly, "if you want to avoid any more of a scene."

Mr Kresk was tall, but her friend still towered over him; with a glance at his wife, they both left the café.

"What charming people," said Vision. "Eva, are you alright?"

"Fantastic," she said. "Thanks for- y'know."

"It was no problem."

"You should probably get back," she said, clenching her fists under the counter to stop them from shaking. She was angry, and whenever she got angry she normally started crying a few minutes later. "I don't want to waste any more of your time."

"Eva-"

"Please, V. I'll be fine, I promise."

He looked her up and down, then leant over the counter to kiss her forehead. "You're ten times more than what they think of you," he said, before leaving. Once he had, the shop was empty; she stood there, trembling with rage and wishing she hadn't sent him away.

%

"Knock knock," said a familiar voice outside her apartment door that evening.

"It's open," she said dully, sprawled across her armchair with a bottle of moonshine dangling from one hand. "What d'you want, Sam?"

"V told me what happened," he said. "C'mere."

Silently, reluctantly, she stood up and walked towards him; he wrapped his arms around her and kissed the top of her forehead. "Ev', I'm sorry," he mumbled, his chest vibrating against her cheek as he spoke.

She clung onto his shirt and breathed in his familiar smell, letting it comfort her. She hadn't imagined that their relationship would be serious enough to warrant him caring enough to come see her, but she was grateful for it. As much as she loved and depended on Vision, she wanted the familiar feel of her boyfriend right now.

"I'm such a piece of shit," she murmured.

"You're _my_ piece of shit. Not your asshole parents."

Her lip twitched. "You comforted people much before?"

"Not really, no."

"It shows."

He laughed softly. "You want me to stay the night?"

She considered pushing him away, but she had already done that once that day and regretted it. "If it's no trouble."

"It won't be," he said. "Listen, we're going to Europe for a few days next week, not sure exactly how long. But if you-"

"Sam Wilson," she said, "under no circumstances are you to skive off saving the world to babysit your crappy girlfriend. I can look after myself."

"You sure?"

"Positive." She rose onto her toes to kiss him. "Thank you, though. I ain't worth this."

"Probably not," he shrugged, and she shoved him. "Also, did you talk to V about normal people clothes?"

She nodded. "I couldn't let him walk around in a cape any longer, Sam. At least, not all the time."

"It was either gonna be you or one of us. He'd look good in a suit."

"That's what I said!"

 **A/N WE PASSED THREE HUNDRED FOLLOWS HOLY COW STAN LEE U WANNA GET IN ON THIS BECAUSE I AM AVAILABLE AF**


	27. Chapter 27

"Hey!" said Eva, wiping her sweaty palms on her pants and extending a hand to the curator, then the graffiti artists who would be working with her on the garden they were currently stood in. "Nice to finally meet y'all."

She had wanted to know what the artists would be painting, so that she could work the flora around the designs. The two artists were intimidatingly cool in a way the hipsters at the coffee shop could only ever hope to be; dressed in paint-stained, distressed clothes and dotted with piercings and tattoos. They kicked about the overgrown plants for about half an hour, brainstorming wildly, before Eva got a phone call.

"'Scuse me," she said, jumping down off a wall for some privacy. "Sam, what is it?"

"Hey, pretty girl." His voice was distorted, as though he was driving in an open top car. "How're things?"

"Good. Working."

"Ah, same here- hang on," he said, and the background noise increased.

"Sam," she said, struggling to keep her voice level, "was that gunfire?"

"Naw!"

"It was gunfire, wasn't it?"

"Yeah."

"Why are you calling me while being shot at, Sam?" she asked exasperatedly.

"I bet War Machine twenty bucks I could do it and survive- HEY, ASSHOLE! HOW DOES MY JETSTREAM TASTE?! Sorry."

She bit her lip. "You calling me via your headset? The one that links up to the rest of y'all?"

"Uh huh."

"Can you put me through to Vision, please?"

"But-"

" _Now,_ Sam."

"Alright, alright," he muttered, and the line crackled.

"Eva. A pleasure, as always."

"Hey, V. Can you please stop my boyfriend from killing himself in an attempt to win twenty bucks?"

"I'll do my best," said Vision, amusement in his tone. "Wanda, check your nineteen-hundred. Sorry, do you mind if I hang up? I'm a little preoccupied."

"Go ahead. Good luck with taking down the bad guys."

"Much appreciated." The line switched back to Sam, who was swearing enthusiastically. "Sam. _Sam._ " She pursed her lips. "Falcon!"

"Wha- oh, hey baby."

She pinched the bridge of her nose. "You're an idiot," she said weakly. "Try not to die."

"Will do," he said, and hung up.

"Sorry," said Eva, running back to her coworkers, "personal stuff."

 **A/N updating a day early because I'm working all day tomorrow (on a farm. No, seriously). Also, I've been listening to the Mumford and Sons cover of Not In Nottingham constantly and under no circumstances should you imagine Eva and Vision slow-bro-dancing to it unless you want to be overcome by emotions**


	28. Chapter 28

_Be my friend, hold me wrap me up_

 _Unfold me, I am small and needy_

 _-Sia, Breathe Me_

Eva swore, scrunched up the smudged pencil sketch and threw it into a corner. She hated this part of designing; she was not at all talented at drawing, and over the last week had repeatedly failed to get what she envisaged onto the paper.

"Mew."

"Sod off, Rachel Carson," she snapped, standing up and cricking her back. "I don't need you reminding me how useless I am as well." It was late Friday evening, when Vision usually visited- she hadn't cleaned the apartment, dirty dishes were piled high in the sink and she was in desperate need of a shower.

"Useless, useless, useless," she muttered, grabbing the loose sheets of paper and stuffing them into the already overflowing trash- which provided absolutely no catharsis whatsoever. Tears that had been threatening to come for the last few hours now spilled over her eyelashes, which only succeeded in making her angrier. "This ain't gonna do."

Scrounging through the kitchen, she upended the dregs of one of her vodka bottles over the bin, then after some more searching found her old lighter. After a good couple minutes of clicking, it finally lit and she chucked it on her work, which ignited immediately.

"Evenin'," she said glumly, voice cracked from crying, as Vision let himself in a few minutes later, "welcome to the ceremonial burning of all my hopes and dreams."

"A touch melodramatic, don't you think?" asked Vision, sitting next to her on the kitchen side. He was indeed looking quite dapper in a suit, although he still wore the cape quite a bit. She let her head droop onto his shoulder.

"Nah," she replied, the flames having long since imprinted themselves onto their retinas. "I just… I got ahead of myself. Thought I might actually be able to do something."

"You are an astoundingly pessimistic person," he said, as the flames burnt lower. "How come your fire alarm hasn't gone off?"

"Oh, I disabled it months ago. I set fire to stuff a lot," she explained. "Sometimes it's even accidental."

He wrapped his arm around her shoulders, and his lips pressed against her forehead; she closed her eyes at the simple gesture, appreciating it for much more than its worth. He let her have the silence for a while, then- "when was the last time you went outside?"

"Dunno," she mumbled, "I was busy. I took time off work two weeks ago, so…"

"Take a shower," Vision said, "and then we're going to the park."

"I don't want to."

"Ah." He stood up, and pulled her to her feet. "The Eva Kresk I know would never turn down an offer of going to the park. In fact- if I remember correctly- she took me there, whilst making no secret about how much of a bother it was to her to have a plus one."

"Really?" she asked guiltily, "was I that much of a bitch?"

"Secretly, however," Vision admitted, "I think she enjoyed my company as much as I did hers."

"Did she now?" asked Eva, smiling for the first time in two weeks.

"I can't be certain. Shower, now."

%

They were lying on their backs on the rolling grass, in opposite directions so that only their shoulders brushed against each other, she wrapped up against the coolness of the small hours, he slightly warmer, for once, than the air around him. It was the darkest time of night, just dark enough, with the city as still as it got, to see the stars.

"It almost improves them," said Vision, "that it is so unusual to see the stars, I mean, what with the light pollution."

"'The citysky is changing its orange heart to black in order to hide its stars for the longest time before passing them out one by one, like gifts,'" Eva quoted. "I read that in a book, ages ago. I'll have to see if I can find it for you."

"You never cease to surprise me, Eva Kresk."

"I could never find constellations," said Eva quietly. "I didn't understand why the dots joined in the pattern they did."

"Would you like me to show you?" asked Vision, and she nodded. "You see the four that join to make a sort of box, with a line of them branching off one corner?"

"Nope."

"By the aspen tree."

"Oh, yeah."

"They compose Ursa Major. If you follow the two stars on the right hand side of the box upwards, they point directly to the North Star."

"Keep going," she smiled.

"The five arranged like a W are Cassiopeia."

"Bit of a mouthful."

"It was named after the mother of Andromeda in Greek myth," he said. "She was rather too beautiful for her name to be much of a bother, I suppose."

"Must've been nice- to be so pretty nothing else was a problem."

"Well, it did prove to be her undoing."

"Hubris is a bitch," Eva reflected.

"It is indeed," he replied.

After just half an hour, Eva had dozed off on Vision's shoulder; his voice soothing her into dreamless sleep. His eyes rested on her as she slept, her mouth slightly open and hair fluttering in the soft breeze; he pushed it back behind her ear, sat up and very gently lifted her head and cushioned it beneath a spare hoodie she had brought. He stayed with her, a silent guardian, and woke her up to watch the sunrise filtering between the skyscrapers.

 **A/N over two hundred favourites, at this point I'm convinced there's a glitch in the system wow I 3 you guys**


	29. Chapter 29: Like Father, Like Son

Eva hid her grin as two familiar faces walked into the coffee shop, in the middle of a very intense-looking conversation.

"And the rerouting was pointless, since it wasn't the mainframe that was the problem, it was something to do with the ether," Stark continued, gesticulating as he talked.

"Are there connection problems elsewhere in the hub?" asked Vision.

"No! That's what bugged me in the first place. If I amp up the MBps for the whole thing it might-"

" _Cough_ \- nerds- _cough_ ," she spluttered, thumping her chest. They both broke off to stare at her. "Sorry, Mr Stark, V."

Stark narrowed his eyes at her. "I heard that," he said shortly, then swept off to a table.

Vision caught Eva's eye, and she grinned at him. "I'll bring his drink over, don't worry. Nice to see you catching up with your former boss-slash-creator. I think he misses you."

"So do I," said Vision, "although I doubt he will appreciate either of us saying that."

"Probably not. I bet Pepper wants you back, though."

"They have F.R.I.D.A.Y," Jarvis pointed out, "the new interface."

"Yeah, but F.R.I.D.A.Y won't have had years of experience of dealing with Tony Stark," she said.

"I'm certainly not jealous of her," Vision admitted, "but I do miss them both."

"Good. Very human of you. So, this new AI, huh? Is she nice? Do you talk much?"

"Do not even _begin_ to think about it, Eva," Vision warned her.

She blinked innocently. "About what?" she asked, then laughed at his expression. "Relax, I'm just kidding. No romance."

"No romance," he repeated, "I'll leave that to you."

 **A/N whoops day late, sorry x**


	30. Chapter 30: Scarlet Witch

Eva froze as Wanda Maximoff walked through the shop door- she knew her via acquaintance, of course, but that didn't stop her from being incredibly intimidating.

"Morning," she managed to say.

"Just my usual," said Wanda, accent licking at her words. And, as an afterthought- "please."

"Sure thing." Eva worked as quickly as she could, and swore as she knocked over a milk bottle with her elbow- a shot of red light dashed over her shoulder and caught it before it fell to the floor. Eva flinched back and turned to stare at her customer, whose hand was extended.

"Thanks," she mumbled, as the bottle floated back up onto the side.

"No problem." Wanda cocked her head to one side, her lip curling slightly. "You are… scared of me?"

"Little bit," Eva admitted. "You and Romanoff get the honour of being the two people in this world I would run away from."

"Why?" Wanda asked. "Why not the other Avengers? They are dangerous too."

"Yeah, but I've seen girls fight. Been in a few cat scraps myself, actually. They're bad enough, but superpowered ninja girl fighters? No, thank you. I want to keep my eyeballs intact."

Wanda laughed shortly. "Very wise."

"I have my moments. Also, you're both intimidatingly hot, which is both threatening and… kind of a turn on, actually." She swapped the coffee cup for the money Wanda handed her.

"I won't tell Wilson you said that."

"I doubt he'd be upset by it."

"You've been in fights?" she asked, and Eva shrugged.

"Who hasn't? Although they were less beating up the bad guy, and more trying to pull some bitch's hair out because she covered my locker in graffiti."

"Now that is something in American culture I understand," said Wanda.

"Indeed. Have a nice day, scary red magic lady."

"You too, coffee girl."

 **A/N AAANNNND bonus chapter because the last one was late and short.**


	31. Chapter 31

The garden was a beautiful thing; the graffiti designs flowed almost seamlessly into the overhanging ivy, but it wasn't the garden itself so much as the people wandering round it, the kids clambering over the low-slung branches, that made Eva proud of her work. She had already turned down two offers from private contractors; she wanted her gardens to be open to the world, not walled in.

Familiar arms wrapped around her waist and she smirked, leaning back.

"Have I ever mentioned you're incredibly talented as well as very hot?" asked Sam, resting his chin on her shoulder.

"I'm neither of those things, but by no means let that stop you."

"Oh, it won't. So what happens to this place now?"

"It stays open to the public," she explained, "the idea of HOPE is that anybody's allowed to paint over the old designs. The plants are all pretty hardy so they shouldn't really need maintenance, just to get cut back every coupla years."

"People keep asking me about trees," said Sam. "They see I'm with you, they think I'm your assistant."

"Aw, do they not recognize you baby?" she asked, turning round to face him. "Has nobody asked for your autograph yet?"

"You can stop taking the mick outta me at any point," he grumbled.

"Where's the fun in that?" she asked.

"'Scuse me." A kid of about eight was stood in front of them, twisting the hem of his Iron Man t-shirt nervously. "'Scuse me, sir, are you Falcon?"

"Spoke too soon," Eva muttered, as Sam's face lit up.

"Fu- hell yeah, I'm the Falcon!"

"Can I have an autograph?" he asked, shyly.

"Sure!" Sam signed the notepad the boy offered him, who promptly ran off to show his parents.

"Have you been practising your signature?" Eva asked.

"You're just jealous."

"Okay," she laughed, "it was slightly adorable. _Slightly_. Don't let it go to your head."

"Too late. I gotta start making my own shirts, now. You think I can claim the cost as expenses? It is kinda to do with work."

"You're unbelievable," she told him.

"Yeah, you love it."

%

Sam had taken the day off, but her friend could only meet her at a time when most were asleep- he found her dozing under the canopy of a hawthorn tree.

"Evening," she yawned, rubbing her eyes.

"Morning, actually. It's a beautiful garden."

"Thanks, V." She rolled out from under the branches to sit with him on the low wall, both their legs resting against the freshly dried paint. "It's kind of a relief that it's over now, actually. One less thing to stress about." She looked up at him and nudged him with her shoulder. "How're you? Y'all seem busy."

"We are. Captain Rogers seems… distracted. He and Mr Stark had an argument yesterday."

"It'll be a lovers' tiff," she assured him, "nothing to worry about. Still, if it ends in a divorce you're welcome to stay with me until they decide who gets custody of the kids." He laughed. "Mi casa es su casa, and all that. What else is there? You seem distracted."

"There has been no sign of Doctor Banner, either," he admitted, "Agent Romanoff…"

"Black Widow and the Hulk?" she stared at him. "Nah, no way." Then she thought back to the conversation the Avenger had had with Hill in the coffee shop a few weeks ago. "Although… Wow. D'you think-?"

"I'm probably not the person to ask," said Vision quickly. If he had been able to, Eva suspected he would be blushing.

"Aw, my innocent little cinnamon roll." She took his hand in her own. "Don't worry about 'em, V."

"It's rather too late to say that," he said. "But thank you for your concern."

"This friendship is a two-way street, y'know. You stress out over me, I stress out over you. Although you tend to handle everything a lot better than I do," she added.

"I get much of my humanity from you," he said, and _she_ blushed.

"If I've had that much of an effect on you, we should all be worried."

"I am inclined to disagree."

"You always do," she said softly, staring down at their intertwined fingers. "What a funny old pair we are."

He didn't reply.

"V," she said evenly, "are you _still_ worrying about Stark?"

"I'm always worrying about Mr Stark," he sighed, "I suspect that it is part of my core programming."

"Well, he did make you." She curled up, resting her knees against his own legs. "Why did he, anyway? J.A.R.V.I.S was the world's only successful AI, and he made you to be his butler. I don't get it- why not hand you over to his company, and hire a human to run around after him?"

Vision circled the knuckle of her middle finger with his thumb. "I think he was lonely," he said, "and afraid of being judged."

She shook her head. "You are the only person capable of making me feel sorry for Tony Stark," she told him. "And you never did judge him? You must know him better even than Pepper Potts."

"Never," replied Vision. "Despite his outward appearance, I believe Mr Stark thinks he is a much worse person than he actually is- much in the same way as somebody else I know," he added, giving her a sidelong glance.

"Yeah, yeah. He's still got more of an ego than me, though."

"That is something I've noticed, yes."

 **A/N we're almost at another landmark, so I'll do something else to celebrate- when we reach 200 reviews (holy moly), I'll make Eva a twitter and post her username on here. Exclusive original content from your favourite gardener, expect tweets like "I watched Security Pete walk into a door today, it was awesome" and more. And if you PM me your own twitter, I'll follow you on there! 200 reviews, people. WE CAN DO THIS.**


	32. Chapter 32

"It's ironic to the point that it's almost poetic," Vision told her, placing the antihistamines on the kitchen side as she shuffled out of her bedroom swaddled in her bedsheet. "A gardener with hay fever."

"Don't think I haven't noticed," she muttered darkly, swallowing one of the pills. " _And_ I've got a cold. That'll teach me to think sleeping outdoors with no blanket is a good idea." She sniffed. "Urgh. I normally remember to take 'em, it's just I was so busy…" she coughed feebly and rested her head on Vision's chest. "I'm assuming you're immune to puny human viruses."

"As am I," he said, pressing his fingers to her forehead. "You're rather hot."

"Too hot," she mumbled, "hot _damn_."

"Very witty," he said, and she poked her tongue out at him. "Where do you keep your medicine?"

"Cutlery drawer. Don't ask."

He popped a couple of ibuprofen and ran a glass under the tap before handing it to her. "Go back to bed."

"I've been in bed for the last twenty two hours, V. No."

"Well, you're certainly not going out."

"I'll just curl up in my chair and feel sorry for mys-"

"WWRREEEAAOOWW!"

"Rachel Carson's already taken it," said Vision, helpfully.

"Ya don't say." She dropped the disgruntled cat onto the floor and curled up in the tattered armchair. Rachel Carson gave her a disdainful look and jumped up onto the kitchen side, headbutting Vision's hand to get his attention. "She hates Sam, y'know."

"He has mentioned it," Vision replied, scratching Rachel Carson behind the ears. "I don't think he's dreadfully fond of her, either."

"I did get that impression. Thanks for coming round."

"It was no bother."

She wrinkled her nose. "Mmm, I still don't like asking you to do this stuff, considering you're an Avenger and all. It's just I don't have anyone else, up here at least- oh, crap, that reminds me."

"What?"

"My Austin friends are doing a road trip, and they said we should meet up when they go through New York."

"Are you not going with them?"

 _I wasn't invited_. "Nah, I didn't fancy it. Road trips aren't my thing, anyway."

"Eva," he said, "you're a terrible liar."

She pulled the bedsheet over her head. "I'm repressing all negative emotions regarding it, please don't drag them out of me."

"Only because you asked so nicely. Can I suggest taking Sam with you?"

She peered through a fold in the sheet. "Why?"

"Because your so-called friends might be somewhat envious if you have a superhero as your significant other."

"Aw!" she said, and coughed. When she had recovered, "you're getting competitive. I think the rest of us might be having an adverse effect on you. You watch yourself, V, we need to maintain your angelic personality."

He laughed. "Allow yourself some time to recuperate, Eva. The Avengers will manage without their coffee girl for a few days."

"Bull."

 **A/N AHHH WE PASSED 200 REVIEWS AHHH (congratulations to the guest writer "Me" for being the lucky 200th) thank you all so much! As promised, Eva has now twittered- her username is evakresk (original, I know) so go! go! go! follow the tiny tattooed gardener! And I love you.**


	33. Chapter 33

"Why do you need me to meet your friends, again?" Sam asked as she led the way to the downtown bar they were meeting at.

"To show them that I am totally over them and not at all bothered by them ditching me," she said, checking their reflection in a shop mirror. Sam looked hot, she looked different to her teenage self, and that was good enough for her. The last dregs of her cold remained, but she had enough tissues in her bag to absorb a county-wide flood.

"And are you?"

"Dunno," she replied, "if this is stopping you from Avenging, then I'm totally cool with you just-"

"Nah, we got an op in two days but until then I'm good. As long as they don't expect me to buy a round."

"We're all freshly graduated, ergo broke. I'll be surprised if the entire tab isn't on you."

"Great," Sam muttered, "brilliant."

There were three of them; Emily, Vanessa and Carol, all very pretty young women with Austin accents much thicker than Eva's. They shrieked when they saw her and enveloped her into a group hug, and for a moment it was easy for Eva to forget their radio silence since she had moved to New York.

"Oh my God, your hair looks so… different!"

"Thanks," said Eva. "This is Sam, my escort."

"You hired an escort?" asked Emily, boggling.

"No, jeez! He's my boyfriend."

"Clearly, they think I'm too good for you," joked Sam.

"I mean," said Vanessa, "yeah. No offence, Evie, but y'know…"

"Don't worry about it," said Eva, "he is, actually. _Way_ too good."

"I'm getting drinks," said Sam, "Eva, can you help me carry stuff?" without waiting for her reply, he dragged her off to the bar.

"What happened to not getting a round in?" she asked him.

"Babe," he said, "no offense, but your friends are assholes."

"You barely know 'em!" she retorted.

"This is the first time they've seen you in years, and all they've done so far is insult you. We've barely even been here a minute- now I'm beginning to get why you have self-esteem issues."

"Look- girls are just like that, okay?" she said, a little helplessly.

"No, they're not!" he took her by the shoulders and forced her to look at him. "Eva, there is no way you're gonna enjoy this. Now we can either stay here with crappy alcohol and crappy company, or ditch 'em and do something nice with our evening."

She saw her reflection in his dark eyes, how unhappy she looked. Back at school she had fought to get into their elite social circle, and even then she had always been a mascot more than a proper friend. And now, it wasn't even like she needed them. "Okay."

"Right." He took her hand and pulled her to the table. "'Scuse me, ladies, but me and my incredibly hot, very talented girlfriend are actually gonna go have fun, without you. Sorry, I didn't get the drinks. Didn't see much point." He left the three girls gaping at them and led Eva out of the bar.

"Okay," she admitted, "that was kinda funny."

"I am actually hilarious," he said, "I dunno if you've noticed."

"I don't think I have, actually," she grinned, and he kissed her.

"C'mon, pretty girl. We're going dancing."

 **A/N if anyone can guess who Eva's friends are named after, I will hand-write you a letter and post it to you, and it shall say that we are now officially friends. I will also be genuinely amazed if you do, like seriously. That is some obscure name-picking up there.**


	34. Chapter 34: Phil

Eva returned to work half a week later, got the usual bollocking from her boss on how she _dare_ be ill when there were customers to serve, then grabbed her apron and returned to the till.

An average-looking man in a suit and one arm in a sling was waiting for her, smiling faintly. "I missed this place," he said, glancing around, "best java in Manhattan."

She recognized him, but not well enough to figure out how. "We do our best," she said, "what can I get you, sir?"

"Decaf chai latte, please. I've been kinda wired lately, caffeine probably isn't the best idea," he told her. Her brain slowly ticked away- she remembered he was something to do with her costumed customers, but not exactly what. The suit would have made her think SHIELD, but she was vaguely aware that they weren't really a thing anymore.

"Why've you been away for so long?" she said. "If you don't mind my asking, obviously."

"Not at all," he replied, still with that funny little smile. "I can't tell you, but it was kind of you to ask. Sorry."

"I kind of get it a lot, actually," she said, "although I swear I know you."

"I last came in here two years ago."

"Oh!" she exclaimed. "You were the first person I ever served! You and the eyepatch guy."

He chuckled. "Just before the battle of New York, wasn't it?"

"I tend to view that as my 'welcome to New York' party," she told him. "Man, remember when aliens falling out of the sky was the weirdest thing that happened in these parts?"

"They were simpler times," he agreed.

"Your name's… Phil, right?" she guessed, and he nodded. "Well, nice to see you back in town, Phil."

"Nice to be back," Phil replied, "although it won't be for long. Things to do, people to see."

"Well," she said, handing over his drink, "good luck with whatever it is you do."

"Thank you. You too."

 **A/N so we're thirty-four chapters in, I should probably do a disclaimer. Marvel owns stuff, yada yada yada**


	35. Chapter 35

"So it's not growing back?" Eva asked the administrator of the Avengers HQ, staring at the massive glyph scorched onto the turf. "And it's been, what, nearly four months?"

The administrator nodded. "We tried putting fertilizer on it, but-"

"That probably made it worse," Eva told her, chewing her lip. "But it has been raining a lot recently… my best guess is that whatever did it killed all the nutrients in the soil as well, so you'd be better off just tearing it all up and starting again. Put a feature there, or something."

"Would you be happy to do that?" she asked.

"Hell yeah! I mean, um, I'd certainly consider it," she said, "if the payment's right."

"Well," said the administrator, "we would of course cover all the costs, and then there's the design fee…" she reeled off a line of numbers, and by the end of it Eva was having to try very hard to stop her jaw dropping.

"That certainly seems suitable," she said, "I work mornings, but I can be here weekday afternoons to do everything."

"That's excellent," replied the administrator, "I'll sort out a security pass and have it mailed to you. A pleasure doing business with you, Miss Kresk."

"You too," she said, shaking her hand.

%

"Hey! You don't have clearance to come through here!"

"Bugger off, Pete," said Eva, as rain pounded the bulletproof windows. She carried on walking until she found Sam, who was just coming out of the gym.

"It's raining outside," she said, as she dripped onto the marble floor.

Sam lasted about half a second before snorting with laughter. "You, uh, you got caught in it then?"

"Such are the perils of being a gardener," she sniffed. "On the plus side, the plants're coming along nicely. Can I seek shelter?"

"Sure," he said, throwing her his hoodie. She shrugged it on, pulling the sleeves down over her hands and tucking her sodden hair beneath the hood.

"Where's everyone else?" she asked.

"V's doing something techy with Romanoff, everyone else is in the rec room I guess. Fridays are chill days, unless there's something big happening."

"The more I hear about this place, the more it sounds like a college on acid," she said. "I would _love_ to see what the Avengers' rec room looks like."

"Well, what are you standing there for? Making an indoor pond?" he joked, and she stuck her middle finger up at him.

The rec room turned out, somewhat disappointingly, to be just like any other, except perhaps more expensive. There were a few television screens plugged into some games consoles, a drinks bar, several squishy sofas and a pool table. Rogers was stood at the latter with Agent Hill, while Maximoff, Barton and Rhodey sat watching them at the bar.

"Well that is just the most pitiful thing I have ever seen," Rhodey remarked as Eva followed Sam into the room. "Who tried to drown you?"

"Mother Nature," she shrugged. "Sorry for gatecrashing."

"Don't worry about it," Cap replied, socking the white ball with his cue. "You're welcome in here whenever the weather gets too bad outside. Perk of the job."

"Thanks, Mr America," she replied.

"Just Steve. Although it is still a little weird talking to you without a counter between us," he joked.

"Stay away from my girlfriend, Rogers."

"You wanna play?" Hill asked, hitting the last ball into the top left corner pocket. "I'm done losing against supersoldiers."

"Sure," replied Eva, taking the cue the woman offered to her. "It's like golf but sideways, right?"

The others in the room exchanged glances. "This should be interesting," muttered Maximoff.

%

Twenty minutes later, Eva had pocketed the eight ball and everyone in the room was staring at her.

"What?" she said, a little defensively. "I spend a lot of time in bars, okay?"

"Did you know she could play like that?" Steve asked Falcon, who held up his hands.

"Dude, I had no idea. Which just made it all the more fun to watch."

"Losing's good for you, Cap," laughed Hill, who had taken a great deal of pleasure in watching her annihilate him.

Rogers was a gracious loser; he shook her hand, joking how he would never look at a pool table the same way again.

"What can I say? There's more to me than gardening."

Something in his expression shifted; his gaze became more calculating, serious.

"Uh," said Eva, what did I do?"

"Nothing. I just had an idea. Nat," he said, turning to the entrance, "perfect timing."

"What's she doing in here?" Romanoff asked as she walked in. Behind her, Vision smiled at Eva, who saluted back at him.

"Not getting rained on. I'm assuming you didn't have any luck with the Oscorp servers?"

"No. No word from Athena, either."

"Right," said Steve. "In that case, I've got us a way in." He clapped Eva on the still-soggy shoulder.

"What? What am I? What's going on?" she asked, looking around the room for answers.

"Captain," said Vision, seriousness in his tone, "she's a civilian, not one of us. We cannot ask her to be a part of this."

"V, normally I'd agree with you. But we're desperate, and with our help she won't be in any danger. It's not even like we have to invent an alias; she already fits the job description. And it's hardly like she's an outsider, is it?"

"If anybody feels like telling me what's going on," said Eva, "that'd be grand."

"There's nothing to tell because it ain't gonna happen," said Sam shortly, not joking around for once. "You can't just tell her she's doing this for us, she isn't a spy!"

"The captain's right," said Romanoff, "we don't have another option. She's all we have."

" _She_ has a name, and is right _freakin'_ here!" Eva snapped. "Now how about you tell me what it is you want me to do, and I'll tell you whether I'll do it!"

Steve and Romanoff exchanged glances; the latter nodded. "We've had reports of Oscorp's R&D department are attempting enhancements," the captain told her. "We need to access their database for their records, but it's a private server and our usual contact for things like this won't pick up the phone. Without SHIELD to support us, we can't send in a mole since we don't have one, and none of us are exactly covert."

"You can say that again," she said, "so you want _me_ to go in and hack their systems? Bearing in mind I can barely make a spreadsheet? Or remember my password?"

"You wouldn't actually have to hack anything," Steve replied. "We have some of the tech Stark left us, including what he used to access SHIELD's servers on the helicarriers a couple years ago. We just need someone to get inside and get near a computer, but so far we haven't been able to do that since their security's so tight."

"So?"

"So they're looking for new employees," he said, "nothing important, nothing that's actually involved in R&D. There's a couple of HR positions, and in their own headquarters…"

"A gardener," she finished for him.

"It's your decision," said Barton, "we're not forcing you to do anything."

"No, I- I want to do it. Who doesn't want to be a super secret spy, right? Will this get me higher security clearance so y'all actually tell me what you're doing all the time?"

"Wait- you're sure?" Steve asked.

She shrugged. "I mean, yeah, why not? You said it was safe, right?" her gaze shifted from him to Vision.

"In theory," he said slowly, "there's no reason for them to suspect you. We'll give you an earpiece, so we can talk to you the entire time."

"Will you be the one talking to me?" she asked him.

"If you wish me to be."

"Yeah. I won't freak out if it's you," she said. "So do I get a codename? Supersuit? One of those pens that I can shoot people with?"

"We're trying not to arouse suspicion," said Steve, and she sagged.

"So no supersuit, then."

 **A/N exciting times for Eva, right? BUT WILL IT GO WELL? You'll have to wait and see.**


	36. Chapter 36

It had taken a good couple of days for her to talk Sam round to the idea, but after that things started happening with alarming speed. She sent in an application, took the morning of the interview off work, dyed her hair a gingery red (in case they recognized her from the blurry picture of her graduation drinking) and before she knew it, she was walking up to Oscorp's massive upstate HQ.

She pushed her fake glasses further up her nose and pressed her finger to her ear. "V, you there?"

"Always. Try not to draw attention to your earpiece."

She dropped her hand back down to her side. Just within her range of hearing, she could hear the whir of the camera mounted in her fake glasses, which was giving everyone back at _their_ HQ a live feed of what she saw. "All good at your end?"

"Sam appears to be breaking everything within reach, but apart from that everything's coming along swimmingly," he replied.

"That's kinda cute. For the record, these shoes are impossible to walk in." She was dressed in a pencil skirt and white blouse, with stiletto heels that made her feel like a short Pepper Potts. They had covered up her visible tattoos, too, which she hadn't been very happy about.

She walked through the frosted glass doors and up to the wide and ultra-modern reception desk, heart hammering a dent into her ribcage. "Um," she said, "Eva Kresk, here for the outdoor area management position?"

The woman glanced up at her, and she hoped she didn't look suspicious. "Sign in here," she said, sliding over a tablet and stylus, "then please take a seat."

"Right." She scribbled her name onto the tablet, then passed it back.

"Eva," said Vision in her ear as she walked over to a seating area, "remember, any computer or tablet will work."

"Shit! Sorry," she muttered, pretending to scratch her nose to hide her mouth as she talked.

"Don't worry. Just keep an eye out for any more," he told her patiently.

Within ten minutes, a middle-aged man in a suit was approaching her. "Miss Kresk," he said, extending a hand. "Mark Heywood, head of HR."

"Pleasure to meet you, sir," she gushed, shaking his hand.

"Please, follow me." And she did, through several sets of double doors into a large office, with a wilting dracaena marginata plant in one shady corner. Eva froze as she caught sight of it, and anger bubbled up at how anyone could neglect such an easy to look after plant.

"Eva," said Vision in her ear, "focus."

"Right," she said, shaking herself, "sorry, Mr Heywood."

He gave her an odd look, but then gestured to an odd twist of metal on one side of his desk. Realizing it was a chair, she promptly sat in it and he took his much grander seat opposite her- right in front of a large computer screen.

"So, Miss Kresk," he said, clasping his hands together and leaning forward, "what makes you think you are suitable for this position?"

The interview passed in a blur, Eva asking the questions on automatic while trying to figure out how to get to his computer.

"Any questions?" he asked her, eventually.

"Actually," she said, "I was wondering if you could show me the blueprints of where I would be working." She nodded towards his screen.

"Of course, of course, come round and I'll show you," he said. Now she just had to plant the tiny device without him noticing…

"There's a port in the keyboard that should work perfectly," Vision told her. "Be careful, Eva. Don't take any risks, it isn't worth endangering yourself. I know you're tempted, but _don't_."

Heywood tapped away on his keyboard. "Here," he said, and some plans appeared onto the screen.

"Interesting," she lied, peering closer. She considered flirting, then decided it wasn't worth the embarrassment of trying in front of the Avengers. "Do you mind if I-" she seized the wireless keyboard and as she did, slipped the miniscule device she had taken from her pocket into one of the USB ports. She tapped a few buttons for effect, then passed it back to him.

"We're online!" said Vision. "Terribly well done. Now get out of there, before they notice."

"If that's everything, Mr Heywood," said Eva.

"What? Oh, yes. Just sign out at the-" she slammed the door on him, and walked as fast as she could out of the building in her ridiculous shoes.

"Y'all owe me. I want tips at _least_ twice what you normally give me."

 **A/N so I've finally finished Alliance (my The Hunger Games fanfic which is currently halfway through updates-wise), right, and it's just over eighty thousand words and I am ASTOUNDED. I poured so much of my soul into that thing I could probably use it for a horcrux if I ever actually killed someone. Not that I'm planning on it. Also, nearly 400 follows! WOWZERS.**


	37. Chapter 37

"So I've decided on my superhero name," she told Vision as she watered her balcony plants.

"As much as I support anything that increases your self-esteem," he replied, smiling crookedly, "I suspect the whole affair might have gone slightly to your head."

"See, at first I thought Poison Ivy, but then I realized that had already been taken," she continued, ignoring him. "But I wanted to stick with plant stuff, so I made a list. And Belladonna sounded pretty cool, 'cept it insinuated I kill people which I draw the line at, quite frankly."

"Very admirable."

"So I went wider, and decided on Flora." She hesitated. "Actually, I don't like that. Ah, hell, this is harder than it looks. How did you choose Vision?"

"It sort of just happened," he said. "Would you like a hand?"

"Nah, I'm done anyway." She dropped the watering can. "Thanks for being the voice in my ear. You were very good at it."

"Well, I have had some experience. Eva, can I ask something of you?"

"Go ahead," she said, walking through to the kitchen and switching the kettle on.

"I… Please can you not get too involved?"

She hesitated in spooning out tea leaves. "With what?" she said, slowly.

"I think you know."

"With _Avenging_? How the hell am I not meant to get 'too involved'?!" she demanded, abandoning the tea. "My best friend, my boyfriend, my customers and my employers are all Avengers! I just carried out a mission that saved your damn superhero asses, and it was the most useful I have _ever_ felt, and you expect me to just… what? Fade into the background?"

"That's not what I meant at all-"

"It is, V! It is and you know it!" she gestured at herself. "What, don't you like it now your token _normal_ , useless, non-world-saving friend is actually of value, actually doing something?"

"Eva, you're not useless."

"The hell I ain't! And now you just want me to go back to being mundane!"

"I want you to go back to being _safe_!" he retorted, his voice rising to a shout for a first time. "If Oscorp had found out why you were in there, they would have tortured and killed you, and I could not live with myself if that happened! Eva, I don't want you to be a part of my world because it is a cruel and dangerous place, and I won't be able to protect you there."

She stared at him, eyes wide. "You…"

"I don't want to lose you," he said, his voice quiet again.

How could she have thought that of him? "Oh, Vision, I'm so sorry. I'm such a freaking idiot, I… I shouldn't have reacted like that. I should've trusted your motives- you're, like, the _least_ shitty person I know."

His expression softened. "There's no need to apologise, I came in here presuming I could tell you what to do with your life."

"No, it was for the right reasons. You're right, of course you are, I just… I'll resign from the HQ in the morning."

"There's no need to go quite that far," he said quickly, "I was just hoping you wouldn't volunteer yourself for any more missions."

She shrugged, giving him a weak smile. "Maybe I was jumping the gun a bit with my superhero name."

"Only slightly. Eva, I have never thought of you as mundane, I promise you."

She walked forward and wrapped her arms around him, welcoming his familiar steady embrace. "I know. I love you."

"I love you, too."

 **A/N this was a really fun chapter to do because it's the first time I really get to show cracks showing in Vision's facade, and it just shows how much he really does care about Eva. Also- I've kind of been going through an emotional rough patch recently, and whenever the crippling self-hatred sets in I just come on here and read all the reviews I get from you wonderful people, so thank you all so much. It really does mean a lot to me.**


	38. Chapter 38

**PSA very,** ** _very_** **mild Ant-Man spoilers. It's not the kind of film that has massive world-changing plot twists, though, so if you haven't seen it you don't really need to worry.**

"Kresk!"

"Whaddup?" she asked, standing up and brushing bona fide Avenger HQ soil from her knees. "Oh, hey, Scott, Miss Van Dyne, Super-Cassie. What're you doing here?"

"I'll wait inside," Hope told Scott, and walked back over to the path where Hill was waiting along with a couple of guards.

"I have a meeting," said Scott, "which I don't really want to be here for, but y'know. Superheroism comes with its drawbacks. Can I ask a favor?"

"Is it to look after your kid while you're in aforementioned meeting?" she asked, and he pointed at her with both hands.

"Jackpot!"

"I will if you pay me," she said, folding her arms. She had practically finished her work on the garden for today, anyway.

"What if I just say please?"

"What if I get Sam down here for a round two? Think you can take him without the shrink suit?" she asked, and he pouted.

 _"Fine_ ," he huffed, handing over a twenty-dollar bill. She raised an eyebrow at him and he reluctantly doubled it.

"Happy to be of assistance," she smiled, tucking the money into her back pocket. "Hey, Cassie."

"Hello!"

"Why'd you bring her, anyway? This isn't a play park, y'know," she told him.

"Her mom's on holiday and the step-dad's working overtime," he explained.

"Daddy calls him step-bad behind his back. And step-sad. And step-mad-"

"You can stop talking now, peanut."

"Very mature," she smirked, "go audition for the freak show, then."

"I don't even wanna be an Avenger," he complained, "not, like, properly. I'm a free spirit, y'know?"

"Uh-huh. Shoo!" she said firmly, and he ran back to where Hope was waiting for him. Eva, meanwhile, looked down at Cassie, who smiled gummily back up at her. "So… I need to make a call," she said, and pulled her phone out of her pocket. "See that tree over there? Betcha half a dollar you can't climb it."

"I _so_ can!" Cassie yelled and ran towards it, tutu scrunching up as she tried to shimmy up the trunk.

Eva speed-dialled. "You're not on a mission now, right?" she asked, once the other end had picked up.

"It's only the colonel and myself who aren't, and the former is in Washington. What's the matter?"

"Meet me in the rec room in ten," she said, nibbling at her thumbnail, "because I do not trust myself on my own."

"Eva," said Vision slowly, "what have you done?"

"… It was forty bucks!"

%

Half an hour later, Eva had loaded the first non-violent (ish) console game she could find and was sat on the sofa, her and V on either side of Cassie. She had had to take the former aside, to remind him not to constantly win like he usually did, and he assured her he wasn't going to.

" _Did you just blue shell me? DID YOU JUST BLUE SHELL ME?!_ " she roared at him, and Cassie giggled. "You're such a jerk!"

"I can't help it if your coordination is terrible," he replied without taking his eyes from the screen.

"I was in first for the first time in the goddamn race!" she yelled, throwing down her controller in disgust as she finished dead last. "Cassie, hit him please."

"Ouch!" Vision rubbed his arm where the little girl had punched him, caught Eva's eye and winked.

"I knew we should've played Halo," she muttered, and glared out of the wall of glass windows. The same overgrown grass and surveillance turrets, broken only by a single, short figure making a run for it across the lawn- _hang on_.

"You see that too?" she asked Vision, pointing at the figure.

"It appears Mr Lang has tired of the meeting," he replied, "we should probably retrieve him before the guards do. He could get into trouble."

"Again," she added. "Cassie, will you be okay on your own for a couple minutes? I'll let you choose the next race."

"Yay!"

Eva ruffled her hair, then out of the complex with Vision on her heels (who was most likely slowing himself down to keep back with her). Ahead of them, Lang vaulted a six-foot wall with ease and carried on running.

"Would you like a lift over that?" Vision asked her, nodding at the wall which formed an inner perimeter for the HQ.

"I can do it." She started to sprint, the wall growing much too large as she approached it, but it was too late to stop now- she jumped and her stomach caught the edge, winding her and folding her body over the middle. Before she could regain control she felt herself slipping forwards, then spun as she fell and landed on her back with a _THUD_ on the other side of the wall.

Eight feet away, Scott was laughing hysterically and Vision, landing silently beside her with his stupid bloody flying powers, was struggling to keep a straight face.

"Ow," she moaned, and took the hand he offered her.

"Can I ask why you're escaping, Mr Lang?" said Vision as he hauled Eva to her feet.

"I… got bored," he admitted, "Hope was doing all the talking, but she said I wasn't allowed to leave before her, so I asked for a bathroom break and…"

"Left your daughter behind?"

"I did go to get her, but she looked happy with you," he pointed out, with a guilty expression. "Yeah, it was a dick move, I know. But I kept getting filthy looks off of the guards, and they had really big guns. Sorry."

"You're such a prat," Eva managed to say, as her entire being pounded with pain.

"It has been said before," Scott replied, "are you alright?"

"Not really!"

"We can either let him get into a great deal of trouble for being a security threat," Vision whispered in her ear, "which I know you would enjoy-"

"Damn straight."

"Or we can keep an eye on him until the meeting finishes."

"Why do you have to be such a good person?" she grumbled, _fine_. Oi, Bug Boy. You know how to play Mario Kart?"

"Ha _! Do_ I?" He faltered at the glare Eva was giving him. "I mean… yes, ma'am."

 **A/N dumb fluffy stuff because the next chapter's a bit sad. Only a bit, though.**


	39. Chapter 39: Peggy

Eva stood at the reception of the old folks' home, flyer for the reason she was there crumpled in one hand. She wondered what the old people- could she call them that? Was that even PC anymore?- would think of her, with her tattoos and bleached-again hair and general demeanour.

"Can I help you?" asked the woman at the desk.

"I, um, I'm here about the old times, new friends scheme," she said, waving the flyer. "You're still looking for volunteers, right?"

"Of course!" said the woman eagerly, coming out from behind the desk to shake her hand. "What's your name, sweetheart?"

"Eva," said Eva, "Eva Kresk."

"Lovely to meet you, Eva." The woman led the way down one corridor that smelt vaguely of hospitals and old paper, lined with closed doors. "Every volunteer is welcomed. How did you find out about the scheme?"

"A friend of a friend has a friend here," she said, "and _my_ friend thought I needed to make another friend." _I said friend way too many times there._ She had struck a deal with Vision, who worried about her being on her own while he and Sam were both on missions- in return for her being a part of this volunteer programme, he would watch the new season of American Horror Story with her so she didn't freak out and call him at two in the morning, demanding he check under her bed for killer clowns. Of course, he probably would have watched it with her anyway, but at least this way she didn't feel as much indebted to him as she would otherwise.

"Really? That's nice," said the lady, as if she hadn't been listening. "Now, you seem like an… alternative young woman, so I'll pair you up with one of our feistier residents. She has family, of course, but they live a few states over, so don't get to visit very often. She was transferred here from Washington, since an anonymous donor paid for our fees on behalf of her children." She paused outside the door. "I should forewarn you, Margaret has dementia, so if she forgets who you are…"

"I'll be fine," said Eva, though inside she was panicking somewhat. Her own grandparents had died before her birth, and she had never done anything like this before. But if Vision thought it was a good idea, then she was prepared to give it a chance.

"Margaret?" called the woman softly, opening the door to reveal a narrow old woman tubed up to the machine beside her bed, "there's a young lady here to see you."

"Oh?" said the woman, in a British accent not unlike Vision's. "Who is it?"

"I'm Eva," she told the lady. "Um, hello."

"I'll leave you two to it," said the lady, closing the door behind her. Margaret exhaled.

"Thank goodness for that," she said in her wavering voice, "I've never been more mollycoddled in my life than by that woman. Sit down, my dear, and for the love of everything call me Peggy."

"Oh!" Eva exclaimed. " _You're_ Peggy! Steve's girl."

"Steve?" Peggy's eyes widened. "He- he's alive?"

As her eyes watered, Eva shot forward and gripped her withered, liver-spotted hand. She knew Steve visited a lot, but of course Peggy may well have forgotten. "Yeah," she said, her own voice shaking a little, "yeah, they found him under the ice. He's on a mission right now, but he's going to come visit as soon as he can, he promised. He- he sends his love."

"Oh-" Peggy craned her neck a little, and Eva grabbed her a tissue from a nearby box. "Oh, thank you. I knew I was right to keep hope."

"Yeah," said Eva, "yeah, you were." She smiled at her. "You look like you need a cup of tea."

Peggy dabbed at her eyes with the tissue. "Not the way Americans make it," she mumbled.

"Lucky for you, I am both an excellent barista and have a British friend," she told her. "Mind if I use your kettle?"

"Not at all, my dear," said Peggy. "Two sugars, please."

Eva made sure she stayed in Peggy's line of sight as she walked to the tiny kettle and tea set, so the woman wouldn't forget she was there. "Y'know," she said, "the lady who showed me in said you were feisty."

"Why do you think they keep me wired up?" Peggy asked, tapping her nose tube. "It's so I can't get out and cause any more trouble."

"Does it work?" she asked.

"I don't have anybody who thinks letting me out of bed is a good idea to push my wheelchair," Peggy replied, and Eva tutted.

"You got me."

%

Peggy clutched the plastic cup in both hands, her oxygen canister rolling around a little in her lap, as Eva pushed her down the corridor at top speed.

"Wheeee!" she whispered, and Peggy laughed.

"There's a lift at the end of this hallway that'll get us out without being seen by the front desk," Peggy told her. "This is really rather exciting."

"Ain't it just?" Eva pressed the elevator button; the doors rattled open and she spun Peggy round and reversed her into it. "Probably not as exciting as all those missions back in the day, though."

"At least I don't have to fight a dozen armed men with guns this time, however," Peggy said dryly, and coughed.

"You okay?" Eva held her oxygen mask up to her face until the coughing passed, and they sneaked out the back of the home. "Did you really beat up twelve guys?"

"Too many times- although I very often had help."

"Stop trying to make yourself less badass, Peggy. I won't believe it for a second."

"You're too kind," Peggy laughed. "Where are we going?"

"Where would you like to go?"

Peggy closed her eyes in the sun, the light making her skin seem almost transluscent. She took a deep breath, relishing the outdoor breeze and the noise of the Manhattan traffic, then her eyes snapped open. "Prospect Park," she said, "Brooklyn. It's been years since I last saw it."

"You know what, Peggy?" Eva asked, as they made their way down the street. "I think you and me are gonna get along just fine."

 **A/N I feel like these two could cause a lot of trouble together, and probably give half the Avengers a heart attack with the amount of trouble they are bound to get into. Oh, and if any of you are going to MCM Comic Con London next Saturday, SO AM I! Let's meet up and scream excitedly at each other!**


	40. Chapter 40: Hulk

As she looked up from the till, Eva's eyes widened as she saw a man in a purple shirt with his back to her, his hand ruffling his dark, curly hair. Then he turned around, and she realized it wasn't Dr Banner- he wasn't wearing glasses, and his nose was too long.

She missed the doctor; when she saw the rest of the Avengers, it seemed like there was a space that could only be filled by him. Smiling a little, she recalled the first time they had all come in here as a team.

 _She stared in horror at the wreckage the Earth's Mightiest Heroes left behind them as they exited the shop, and thought of how Mr G was, in fact, going to kill her and leave her body in the dumpster outside. One of them stayed behind, telling the others he would catch them up- he was tired-looking, dressed in normal clothes, and carrying the only two intact cups left back up to her at the counter._

 _"Sorry about all… this," he said sheepishly, gesturing behind him. "I'll get Tony to reimburse you for the damage later."_

 _"It's fine," she lied, "I like a challenge every now and then." He chuckled. "Thank you, for bringing these up." She took the cups from him and dumped them in the sink behind her._

 _"Oh no, it's alright," he replied, "would you like any help with the rest of it? I do feel kind of responsible," he added, fiddling with the cuffs of his overlarge shirt._

 _"Oh, no."_

 _"You sure?"_

 _"It's more than my life's worth to get a customer to do my work for me," she told him, "let alone my job. My boss really isn't into letting me slack off."_

 _"Well when you put it like that," he said, but followed her as she took the mop and bucket round to the tables they had pulled together._

 _"Don't think I've seen you on the news like I have the others before," she said, pulling one of the chairs back onto its feet. "You new?"_

 _"No, I uh… I just look really different," he explained. "Try picturing me big and green and smashing things."_

 _She smacked her forehead with the palm of her hand. "Oh, right! I'm an idiot. Though you don't seem like a very angry guy," she added._

 _"I'm good at hiding it," he said, "well, most of the time."_

 _"I doubt the Hulk could make a worse mess than this," she joked, and Banner bit his lip._

 _"I really do feel bad about you having to clean up after us," he said._

 _"It's my job, doctor," she said, "really, don't worry."_

 _"We didn't even leave a big tip," he said, and then reached into the pocket of the jacket of his suit. "Tony makes sure I always have money in my spare clothes- aha!" he pulled out a crumpled hundred-dollar bill. "Here."_

 _Her eyes widened. "Oh no, that's way too much," she said, and immediately kicked herself for turning down a hundred bucks tip._

 _He pressed it into her hand nonetheless. "Just take it to make me feel better," he said. "And thanks for the coffee, by the way. Best decaf I've ever had."_

 _"You are very welcome," she said. "Have a lovely day, Doctor Banner." And she meant it._

It wasn't just because of the hundred bucks that she liked him so much; it was the gesture itself, that he had considered her worth it. That, unlike the others, he was aware of the mess he made. Perhaps it was because of his own power, but the fact that he wasn't as conceited as the others- convinced that the wreckage he made was for the greater good- endeared him to her, although she barely knew him. She hoped he came back soon, for all the Avengers' sakes.

 **A/N Comic Con tomorrow! Keep an eye out for me- I'm the tall chick in glasses and a Death from Sandman cosplay wandering round with a short chick in glasses and a Zatanna cosplay. Just yell my pen name if you see us and there's a 90% chance I'll respond! (The other 10% is because my hearing's terrible). I know a couple of you are going already and honestly, if you see me? I'll freak out a lot more than you do.**


	41. Chapter 41

She stormed out of the HQ, away from the blazing row she had just been having with Sam, and on automatic headed over the well-manicured lawn to the copse of trees surrounding the place, the one kind of area guaranteed to calm her down. She walked into it until the noise of the soldiers running drills faded away, then scrambled up two twisted oak trees to sit in the crook of one of the limbs.

"Idiot, idiot, idiot," she muttered to herself, slamming the back of her head against the trunk with each word. "Ouch." She reached for her pocket, then remembered she had left her hipflask behind. " _Idiot_."

She was too angry to cry; instead, she stared into the foliage with her teeth gritted so tightly her jaw threatened to lock, identifying trees by their leaves in the same way most people would count to ten.

"Eva?" said a smooth voice from below her, and she flinched.

"Damn, you're quiet," she told Vision, as he flew up to join her on the branch. "Wow."

"Sorry?"

"I've never seen you do that before," she explained, as he sat down next to her. "I mean, I knew you could do it, I just..." she leant against his side. "Never mind."

"I heard you and Sam arguing," he said, "and thought I might find you in here."

"You are too good for me," she told him.

"Not even remotely. Would you like to talk about it?" he asked.

She pulled a corner of his cape onto her lap- he must have just come off a mission, if he wasn't wearing people clothes- and fiddled with the hem. "I… he said I shouldn't drink so much, and I kinda took it personally. I mean, he's probably right, but… I _am_ better," she said defensively, "since I met you, I hardly drink anywhere near as much as I used to."

"I can hardly take all the credit for that," he said. "It was your decision to cut down on your alcohol intake, not mine."

"It wasn't a decision," she explained, "I just… stopped wanting to block out the world so much. But, like- you _know_ me, V, better than anyone. Getting myself wrecked is part of who I am, and it's none of Sam's business trying to change that."

"I wouldn't describe it as one of your defining qualities," he said, and she snorted. "I am quite serious, Eva. There is more to you than just your faults and self-destruction."

"Right," she said sarcastically, "such as?"

"Your love of nature," he said without needing to think. "And classical music. Your endless patience with the customers you serve. That you adopt strays, like Rachel Carson and myself, despite having more than enough problems of your own. That you are surprisingly skilled at pool, and crossword puzzles, and make the best coffee in New York. That although you will probably deny it, you really are exceedingly kind. Those are the things that make you who you are, Eva, not the drinking. Stopping that will not mean you lose what is important."

"Well," said Eva, "now you made me cry. And you forgot the horror movies."

"Ah, how could I forget the terrible films you watch?" he smiled, and she elbowed him as she used his cape to wipe her eyes.

"I guess I should go apologize to Sam, now," she said. "I kind of flew off the handle." She winced at the fresh, vivid memory. "I said some horrible things. V. Really awful. I doubt he'll take me back."

"He seemed to be more worried than angry when I saw him," he said. "You should have more faith."

"You should probably have less," she countered, dropping onto the forest floor with a thud as Vision landed lightly beside her. "Uh… which way is it?"

"Follow me."

"Thanks, V," she said, as he led her back to base.

"What for?"

"Being there for me," she said, "like, literally all the time."

"That _is_ what friends are for," he said, over his shoulder.

 **A/N double update because we're practically at 450 follows. Also, these two chapters kind of come as a pair, so read the next one... NOW!**


	42. Chapter 42

"Knock knock," she said, twisting the strap of her bag, and after a moment Sam opened the door to his apartment area. Despite what Vision had said, he looked mad.

"Don't tell me," he said, "you've come to apologize."

"Something like that," she replied, "can I come in?"

"Why?"

"Because I have a grand stunt planned to prove my affection for you, and I can't do it out here," she explained.

Sam looked like he was about to smile, then stopped himself at the last minute. "Go on, then," he said, opening the door wider. She walked in and crossed to his personal kitchen area, then opened her bag.

"This," she said, pulling out her bottle, "is the nicest scotch I own. Single malt, old as dicks, potent as hell and the two glasses I've had were like a religious experience, they tasted so good. It was also pretty damn expensive."

She unstoppered the bottle and poured the amber liquid down the drain, shaking the bottle to get rid of the last few whisky drops.

"Ta da," she said, "grand stunt. I'm giving up alcohol, unless everyone else is drinking, in which case it's social and completely allowed." She set the empty bottle on the side. "I, um, I didn't think beyond this point. Please say something. Sorry."

"You can be such a dick sometimes," he said.

"I know. I'm sorry."

Sam shook his head, chewing his lip as he looked out of the window. "I can't believe this," he muttered.

"Believe what?"

"That I am actually considering taking you back," he told her, and she didn't say anything. "You are one screwed up person, you know that?"

"If insulting me is giving you catharsis," she said, "I don't mind. Whatever makes you feel better."

He looked back to glare at her. "Really?"

"I'm being serious!" she retorted. "I just- _argh_ , I'm so crap at this." She ran her hands through her hair. "I'm sorry, Sam, I didn't mean to lose it at you and none of the stuff I said was true. I like you, I _really_ like you, and I don't want to lose you over some dumb argument." She walked forward until there was only a couple of inches between them, and stared at her own feet. "Sorry," she said for the third time, hoping it would prove lucky.

Sam sighed, then wrapped his arms around her. "God, I hate you so much," he said, kissing her forehead.

"Mmhmm."

"And I am a total idiot, apparently, because I ain't splitting up with you either," he continued, "I really like you too."

"I thought you said you hated me?" she grinned, looking up at him.

"Shut up," he said, and kissed her.

 ** _To: Tall Glass of Water_**

 ** _Guess who just got laid B) xx_**

 ** _From: Tall Glass of Water_**

 ** _I told you he would take you back, didn't I? x_**

 **A/N actually, it's a miracle I'm even awake to post this since I got no sleep last night due to a combination of a) staying up to finish volume 5 of Sandman and b) crying like a baby over Wanda (not Maximoff) in the aforementioned comic book. Which, incidentally, I have decided is Eva's favourite comic as it combines her love of horror and tall British dudes who aren't quite human. Anyhoo- hope you enjoyed the chapters, my favourite bit is that Eva and V put kisses in texts to each other, and I'm going to go back to wailing over Wanda (not Maximoff).**


	43. Chapter 43

"Do I have to?" Eva asked, "I mean, I have a taser and I know where to kick. This really ain't necessary."

"Yup," Sam replied, and tapped her hands. "Guard your pretty face. C'mon, fists up- thumbs over your fingers, not under."

"Fine," she muttered, raising her hands.

"Uncurl them a little." Sam raised his own open palms up in front of her. "Unless you wanna break your hand, that is. Okay. Right hand punch straight ahead, go." She slammed her fist into his hand as hard as she could, and he didn't even blink. "Good. Across your body with a right-"

"Cross?" she asked, raising an eyebrow as she hit him.

A glimmer of mischief appeared in his eyes, and as her fist made contact he grabbed it and yanked her off-balance, so the only thing keeping her from falling to the ground fully was him.

"Oi!" she giggled, and hooked her leg around his knee in an attempt to pull him down with her. He wobbled a little, then regained his balance and jabbed her side in retaliation, making her squirm. "Tickling is not okay!" she wheezed, twisting away from his hand.

"Tap out?" he grinned, as she shrieked.

"Never!" She wrapped both legs around his waist instead, then hooked one over his shoulder and fell backwards, slamming into the floor with him collapsing on top of her. " _Ow_."

"You winded yourself there, didja?" he smirked.

"Little bit," she admitted, hoping she hadn't cracked the back of her head open. "Worth it, though."

"Am I interrupting something?" said a vaguely amused-sounding voice from the doorway, and the two of them blushed as they scrambled to their feet.

"Uh," said Sam, still rivalling the Cheshire Cat for widest grin, "this isn't what it looks like, Cap. I promise."

"I'll give you the benefit of the doubt," Rogers said, as Eva struggled to retain a straight face. "We need you in command."

Sobering immediately, and without asking questions, Sam kissed Eva on the cheek and ran out of the room.

"I forget he's a soldier sometimes," she thought aloud, "he doesn't seem the type to take orders." She glanced at Rogers. "Neither do you actually, _Captain_."

He shrugged his ridiculously broad shoulders. "Sometimes you don't have a choice," he told her, and she supposed he had a point.

"Oh," she said, "I started visiting your Peggy. I figured you wouldn't have much time to, with all the stuff going on here, and what can I say? She's pretty cool."

"She is," Steve agreed. "How is she?"

"Old," said Eva. "I- I have to keep reminding her you're alive, and most of the time she forgets halfway through me being there anyway. But she remembers me," Eva continued, "and that's hardly fair, is it?"

Steve looked down, straightening the cuffs of his super suit. "Life very rarely is," he said. "Mind if I admit something to you?"

She shrugged. "Go ahead."

"It… it seems futile. Every time I go, it's so emotional for her, and that's hardly good for her health even if she was going to remember me the moment I turn away." He passed a hand over his brow. "Sometimes I think it would be easier for both us if I just… stopped."

"Do not go gentle into that good night, Steve Rogers," she said severely. "Old age should burn and rave at the close of day."

"Rage, rage against the dying of the light," he finished for her, lips curling into a sad little smile. "Didn't have you down as the poetry type, Miss Kresk."

"I'm full of surprises, and don't change the subject. You and Peggy are both fighters- look at the stuff you did during the war! And you're going to give up and let her _memory_ beat you? I know it hurts, Steve, but you're the strongest person I know. You need to keep doing this for her."

"You don't think it's just a waste of time?" he asked. It must have really been wearing him down; he looked broken, and so much smaller than Captain America.

"It makes her happy. Of course it isn't." She stuck her hands deep into her pockets. "Come with me, next time. She remembers me, after all, and it might make you stick."

"It's a date," said Steve, then blushed. "I just- I meant- I gotta go, miss."

" _Miss_?" she raised an eyebrow. "Seriously? You gonna offer to carry my purse or something next?"

He chuckled, and she waved goodbye as he followed Sam down the corridor. _Poor bastard._

 **A/N as I've said many times before, I am still stunned at how popular the Civilian Chronicles are. My goal is to get so established that people much more talented than myself make fanart/vids/just general awesomeness, etc. I love the idea of my dumb little stories inspiring some incredibly cool stuff.**


	44. Chapter 44: Scientists Vol 1

"Hey!" said Jane Foster, as she reached the front of the queue with another pretty girl and a lanky man in a hat. "You're… Eva, right? Eva. The trees girl."

"The very same," she smiled, flattered that such an important scientist would remember her. "What can I do for y'all?"

She took down their orders, and learnt that the other two's names were Darcy and Ian. Darcy stayed at the counter as she made their drinks, beaming widely.

"So," she said, "trees, huh?"

"Trees," Eva agreed, pouring a shot into a tall glass.

"Sounds… interesting."

Eva declined to comment. "You an astrophysicist too?" she asked her.

"Kinda. I mean, I dabble," said Darcy, fiddling with the sugar sachets, "I helped her and Thor save the world a couple times- not that I get any credit, obviously."

"Obviously. What're you doing in New York?" Eva asked, having long since learnt that asking about a customer's problems was like opening a floodgate that could not be closed.

"Our friend Erik was meant to be doing a seminar at the university," Darcy explained. Having emptied the sugar pot, she moved on to rearranging the spoons. "But since he's too busy with the Earth's Mightiest Heroes, Jane said she would do it instead."

Eva recalled the slightly odd man she had seen around the HQ; she had brought him coffee a few times, and had a soft spot for him since he often had classical music playing in his lab. The occasional lack of pants was an issue, but they didn't talk about it. "What's it about?"

"Wormholes, or something. That's what they're normally about," Darcy elaborated. "I stopped listening a while back. Like, two weeks after I started working for her, actually. But it's not like I'm being paid, so it's totally cool if I don't listen."

Eva nodded. "Who's Downton Abbey?" she asked, nodding at Ian as he tripped over a chair on the way to the bathroom.

"Oh, he's my boyfriend. And my intern. I mean, I know people always say not to mix business and pleasure, but-"

"You never listened to them?" Eva finished for her, and Darcy snapped her fingers and winked in her direction.

"You got it," she said, swiping her card on the machine as Eva slid the coffees over the counter. "I don't really like to be restrained by dumb rules, anyway."

Eva chuckled as the payment logged on the cash register. "Have a nice day, ma'am."

 **A/N these might be some of my favourite characters in the whole MCU tbh. And yes, the title name does mean there shall, at some point, be scientists vol 2.**


	45. Chapter 45

_Extract taken from the text messages on the phone of Eva Kresk:_

 ** _From: Tall Glass of Water_**

 ** _Can I ask you a question? x_**

 ** _To: Tall Glass of Water_**

 ** _Fire away xx_**

 ** _From: Tall Glass of Water_**

 ** _I don't quite understand similes and metaphors. For example, Captain Rogers said something about a girl who was following us in Chile having stars in her eyes, but how can somebody's eyeballs contain massive balls of flaming gas? When somebody is being described as "like a storm", I do not see the resemblance._**

 ** _To: Tall Glass of Water_**

 ** _Well I think the stars in her eyes 1 was more just a turn of phrase but um u know storms? theyre loud and dangerous and unpredictable but also u rly wanna watch them. so when a person is loud n dangerous n unpredictable n fascinating, u say theyre like a storm. it's not like the physical stuff a lot of the time, but what they make u feel._**

 ** _From: Tall Glass of Water_**

 ** _In The Selfish Giant, the flowers are likened to stars, and the peach tree blossoms are "of pink and pearl". Could you explain those for me, please?_**

 ** _To: Tall Glass of Water_**

 ** _Sure, altho im not an english teacher lmao. similes are when u say smt is like smt else, so the flowers are like stars bc theyre little patches of brightness against the uniform grass yknow? metaphors tho are when u say smt IS smt else, like the blossom, bc it makes the picture more vivid in ur head. so when u read that bit, did u just imagine normal peach trees or beautiful exquisite things that dont seem properly natural but still u got the mental picture of all these colors and how the sun shone off them etc and you get that picture from less than a line of writing rather than like a paragraph of waffling_**

 ** _To: Tall Glass of Water_**

 ** _Did that make sense?_**

 ** _From: Tall Glass of Water_**

 ** _Yes, I rather think it did._**

 ** _To: Tall Glass of Water_**

 ** _U got 2 think abt the essence of the thing the thing is being likened to rather than its physical propertys._**

 ** _To: Tall Glass of Water_**

 ** _*properties oops lol xx apparently autocorrect doesnt always cover my ass_**

 ** _From: Tall Glass of Water_**

 ** _Thank you for explaining that. I must admit, it would have felt somewhat embarrassing asking one of the others._**

 ** _To: Tall Glass of Water_**

 ** _I got ur back bby xx altho u should be proud of urself embarrassment is probably the most human emotion there is_**

 ** _From: Tall Glass of Water_**

 ** _I suppose all the pathos-based feelings such as love and fear and so on have always been somewhat overrated. x_**

 ** _To: Tall Glass of Water_**

 ** _Damn straight xx_**

 **A/N that feeling when you're 45 chapters into a fic about a girl who works at a coffee shop and only now remember that barista is a word... I'm dumb. Also in the "author is dumb" file: only very recently realised that the new HQ is in the STATE New York, not the CITY New York. American geography is weird, and we're just going to pretend the HQ is at the top end of Bronx, alright? Nobody say anything.**


	46. Chapter 46: Hawkeye

"I still think you should've stayed at home," said Barton, to a woman holding a very fidgety baby. Two other kids were clinging onto the man's legs, like an extremely rubbish pair of shoes.

"Clint," said the woman, jiggling the baby on her hip. "It's only for one day, and the kids wanted to see the city. It's not like we're dragging them into the middle of HQ, is it?"

"Why you gotta be so damn reasonable?" Barton grumbled, planting a kiss on the woman's cheek before turning to face the counter. "Hey, again."

"Um," said Eva, "no offense, but since when were you Mr Happy Families?"

"Too long," he muttered, then shrunk under the look his wife gave him. "I was kidding, sweetheart. Go take the sprogs and sit down." He smiled at her, then looked back at Eva as his face fell. "Family trips are hell," he told her in an undertone, "kids are great when you have them in their own territory. Ever tried to get three under tens in a taxi? Nightmare."

She chuckled at his distress. "Makes the battle of New York look like playtime, right?"

"Oh, you have _no_ idea. My usual, cinnamon latte for Laura and… this place doesn't really look like it has a kids' menu. Oh, God. I didn't think this through at all."

"I'll froth up some milk and sprinkle cocoa powder over the top," she said, "bubbles and chocolate, kids' two favourite things. But seriously, I had no idea you were a dad. Like, a normal dad."

"Two sets of kids," he said, "those three, and the Avengers. Thanks for the littl'uns' drinks, by the way."

"No problemo," she shrugged, pulling two espresso cups out for the tinies. "Gimme the baby's bottle, I'll fill that up too."

"You're an _angel_ ," Clint enthused, pulling a bottle out of his pocket, "honestly. If ever you need an apple shooting off someone's head, well- I owe you a favor."

"I will try to remember that," she said, "should that opportunity ever miraculously arise. So that explains the long absences from HQ, then."

"Yeah. It's kind of a secret though, so-" he tapped his nose, and she winked in response. "Safer that way."

"What're you doing with 'em in New York?" she asked him.

"All the cliché tourist stuff in Manhattan… couple museums, Empire State and stuff like that."

"Try Inwood Hill Park," she said, "last virgin forest in the state, it's gorgeous. Let 'em run around and let off some steam; better there than in a museum, after all. There's some really cool caves- it's amazing, you forget you're in New York at all."

"Might need that when they start getting homesick," he figured, fiddling with his wallet. "Here you go."

She raised an eyebrow at the tip, since it was twice what she normally got. "Mr Barton, you don't have to-"

"Sure I do," he said, balancing the cups between his fingers. "You went above and beyond the call of barista duty."

She blushed a little. "Thanks, then. Enjoy your day, Mr Hawkeye."

"You too."

 **A/N So the Civil War trailer's awesome, could do with some Vision in it but awesome, BUT for someone who writes a fic about humanising the Avengers and focusing on their friendships and stuff, my reaction probably should have been more geared to, y'know, the plot and characters and how upsetting it all is, rather than "I want Bucky Barnes to punch me in the face with his badass metal hand and then make out with me** **a bit** **a lot"**


	47. Chapter 47: Quicksilver

**This chapter is dedicated to Wallis, whose name on twitter for several months after AoU was "Pietro pls". If that's not love, I don't know what is.**

 _A few months ago, during the Battle of Sokovia_

Eva always knew when there was a worldwide crisis happening, not because of the news, but because the Avengers always ordered an extra shot of espresso each.

The night before Sokovia was lifted into the sky, Eva was working a busy late shift in the coffee shop in order to actually afford her rent that month. Hipster bloggers loved to write by moon- or rather, street-light, so it was one of their busiest times of the day and as such the queue stretched almost to the door.

One moment, she was serving the stereotypical man in horn-rimmed glasses and a beanie, then she blinked and someone else was stood there, the people behind him staggering as he must have barged through them. He was in running gear, and although his hair was bleached white there were darker roots beginning to show.

"I have list," he said, in a heavy accent.

"That's nice, sir," she said, giving him a cool look. A glance at the piece of paper told her he was doing the Avengers' coffee run, so she put two and two together and guessed that he must be some sort of super in order to appear there so fast. "But I'm going to have to ask you to go to the back of the queue."

"But this is urgent," the man said, as if that would change anything.

"Then I suggest you go to the back now and don't waste any time arguing with me," she replied, and, scowling, the man suddenly appeared at the back of the line, a trail of silver marking his path. He watched her, as if hoping to see her reaction, but Eva- being Eva- didn't even flinch.

She worked her way calmly through the queue, keeping one eye on the man as he hopped from the ball of one foot to the other, eyes flitting impatiently from her to the door. When he finally got to the front he shoved the list under her nose and she rolled her eyes as she turned away from him to the machine, hoping that none of the caffeine was for him.

"So are you the newest Earth's Mightiest Hero?" she asked, glancing back over her shoulder.

"I do not know," he said, "please hurry. We have somewhere to be."

"Chill, sweetheart. I'm getting there." He was quite pretty, but his manner annoyed her; besides, she was automatically going to dislike anyone who skipped a queue. "If Tony Stark can wait, then so can you."

"I have money."

"I should hope so," she said, as he dropped a hundred-dollar bill on the table.

"Tell me when you are finish."

"Hang on!" she told him, her own patience running thin. The only thing stopping her from deliberately messing up the order and having to start again was that they probably had quite an important job to be doing. "Okay, I'm do-"

"Thank you." A silvery blur whipped over the counter, grabbed the drinks tray out of her hand and streaked out of the door, its jetstream sending napkins flying.

"-ne." She scowled. "Freakin' supers."

 **A/N I have one of those bobblehead Pop Vinyl things and it's Vision and he watches me from my shelf as I type this. He's almost as cute as the real thing.**


	48. Chapter 48

Eva sat shotgun with her feet (ensconced in uncomfortable fancy shoes) up on the dash of the car, drumming her heels against it absent-mindedly.

"You nervous?" Sam asked, glancing across at her from the driver's seat.

"I don't like being in cars," she said, "they make me feel… trapped. I don't trust 'em."

"And yet you've crashed your bike and shredded up one side of your body," he pointed out, having seen the ugly scar stretching across her left hip and thigh, half-covered by tattoos.

"That was simultaneously the most awesome and terrifying moment of my entire life," she told him, eager for a distraction. "Did I ever tell you what actually happened?"

"Nope."

"It was back in Austin, right, and I'm driving past this junction and a _freaking ginormous_ sixteen-wheeler lorry pulls out of nowhere, and I can either pancake myself into the side or do the thing that always happens in action movies where they skid underneath."

"So you action movie'd?"

"Obviously." She smiled fondly at the memory. "Dude, there was _so_ much blood."

"You are so weird," Sam laughed. "And when I asked, I meant are you nervous about _this_."

"What? _No_ ," she said, a little too earnestly. "Why should I? They're only your parents."

"I heard you on the phone to V last night," he replied. "I was in the room next door but I could still hear you screaming."

"Okay," she admitted, "maybe I am slightly nervous. _Slightly_." She swallowed. "Oh, God."

"Is now a good time to mention my old man's a priest?" asked Sam. "Maybe less of the 'oh, God'."

"How about oh shit?"

"That'll work," he conceded.

"What if they don't like me? They probably won't like me. Look at me, Sam. I'm not the sort of girl people want their kids to date." She'd done her best, though, with a nice skirt and pumps instead of boots. They weren't even muddy.

"They'll love you," said Sam, pulling over. "We'll walk into Harlem, it'll be easier. C'mon." He offered her his arm as she climbed out of the car.

"Very courteous, Avenger Wilson," she teased him.

"My pleasure, Miss Kresk."

Mr and Mrs Wilson lived in a small terrace across the road from a church in the very centre of Harlem; a couple of kids were on bikes outside the latter, who waved at Sam as they walked past.

"I'm kinda their hero," he said, "y'know, super badass black superhero who grew up in the same neighbourhood as them and all. I'm an inspiration, apparently."

"Sure you are, baby."

He elbowed her as he rang the doorbell of the shiny-clean housefront, and a small, elegantly-dressed woman opened it for them.

"Sam!" she exclaimed, pulling her son into a hug. "You put on weight."

"All muscle, mama."

"You must be Eva," said Mrs Wilson, turning to Sam's guest just before she could run away.

"Yes, ma'am."

"Well, you'd best come in. Your father's in the dining room," she said, ushering them into the hallway and disappearing into the kitchen.

"This is good," Sam whispered to her, "she didn't let my last girlfriend in at all. Eva?"

"Hm?"

"Breathe."

She exhaled. "Sliding beneath a lorry at fifty miles an hour was _way_ less scary than this."

"Samuel?" a voice called from another doorway. "I hope you're not keeping our guest standing."

"No, dad." Sam pulled her into the living room, where a man in a vicar's collar was sat.

"I would stand up," he smiled, extending his hand to Eva, "but a bullet to the spine kinda took my running career away from me." With his free hand, he waved to the wheelchair he was sat in.

"I… how long ago did that happen?" she asked. "I, um, I mean- nice to meet you, father."

He chuckled. "You too, Eva, and for the record it was over a decade ago. Just thought I'd get the elephant outta the room first."

"Dad," said Sam, "when's Abbie getting in?"

"She's due about now, actually. Kids are coming, too."

"So she'll be late, then," said Sam.

"Probably. Sit down, the pair of you."

Eva sat down on the sofa with Sam, who knocked his shoulder against hers reassuringly. "How's the flock, dad?"

"None too bad," Mr Wilson said, turning his chair a little to face them. "The-" he paused as the doorbell rang. "That'll be your sister. Get the door, will you Samuel?"

"Yeah, yeah." He left the two of them alone, and Eva- somewhat ironically- prayed he wouldn't ask if she went to church.

"How'd my wife react to you?" he asked, eyes sparkling.

"She- she didn't," said Eva, "but Sam said that's above average."

"Oh, it is. Can I get you a drink?"

"No, thank you."

He poured her a glass of water anyway. "So you just graduated?"

"Agriculture and forestry," she nodded.

"Ah, I'll have to get you to have a look at the parish garden sometime. We wanna start a vegetable patch, but nothing seems to want to… stay alive."

"I can fix that," she said confidently. People she might not be good at, but anything that grew out of soil she could handle.

"You're too kind. So what do you think of Samuel's new… job?"

"I guess I'm okay with it," she shrugged. "I know a lot of people stress out when their significant other has a career that puts 'em in harm's way, but I knew him as Falcon before I knew him as Sam. And he does a lot of good, too."

Mr Wilson nodded. "Adie doesn't approve," he told her, nodding towards the kitchen door. "But she didn't when he joined the army, either."

"It's understandable," she said. "If my son was as much of a reckless asshole as-" her hands flew to her mouth. "Oh, my God- I mean, oh, gosh! I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to-"

Sam's dad was laughing. "Sweetheart, I hear a lot worse than that from my congregation, don't worry- and here come the grandkids," he added, as two little girls ran into the room, followed by a strained-looking woman in a suit who could only have been their mother. Sam followed his sister into the room and winked at Eva as the two kids clambered up onto her, investigating the stranger.

"What're these?" the older one asked, running her fingers along the circuit patterns on her arm.

"Tattoos," Eva said, "they're like drawings you put on your body that stay on forever."

"They're pretty."

" _She's_ pretty," Sam added, his arm around Abbie's shoulders, and Eva glared at him.

"She is," the girl agreed, and she blushed. She knew deep in her bones she was average at best, but that was the thing about boyfriends- they were biased. And besides, little girls thought _everyone_ was a princess at some point.

"Dinner's almost ready," declared Mrs W, sticking her head round the door. "Sam, lay the table."

"But it's Abbie's turn," he argued.

"She got the kids to look after."

"I got Eva!"

"I'll help," said Eva hurriedly, standing up. Sam took her hand and led her through to the tiny dining room, then handed her a fistful of cutlery.

"Well?" he asked, lowering his voice slightly.

"I had no idea you had a sister," she replied, " _or_ nieces."

He shrugged. "Same as Barton, I keep 'em off official records. Only people who know are in the neighbourhood- and you, now."

"I'm honoured," she smiled. "Your dad's lovely. I, um- he offered me a drink and I know I ended up with water, but I don't…" _want to get drunk and have a breakdown in front of these people I am trying so hard to impress,_ she finished silently.

"He knows," said Sam, "my mom doesn't, but dad don't care about stuff like that." He turned a glass over in his hands as he recalled something. "You know I'm bi?"

"I had kinda figured it out from the way you look at Denzel Washington, yeah."

He laughed. "For three years, I was terrified of coming out to them. 'Cuz of all that homophobic crap that's supposed to be Christian, y'know? And then one Thanksgiving, my old man, he takes me to one side and it turns out Abbie told him. And he said he couldn't care less who I dated, so long as they never throw the first punch. And then he went and told mom for me, and talked her round too."

"That's a good life ethic, that," she said.

He nodded. "He got shot trying to break up a gang fight. Two days later, heads of both gangs turn up at the hospital to apologize. I wanted to smash their faces against a brick wall, but he forgave 'em like it was the easiest thing in the world."

"Your dad's a superhero," Eva realized.

"Pretty much."

 **A/N my headcanon for Sam's family is inspired in no small part by the oneshot "No One Leaves Home Unless Home Is The Mouth Of A Shark" by GwenTheTribble, which is quite possibly one of the best pieces of short writing ever created and has made me cry on several of the occasions I read it, so you should absolutely go and check that out. Also, I always thought of Sam as bisexual since Falcon's gay in the comics, but he comes across as very into women in the films, so why not both? Also also, happy Hanukkah to my Jewish followers!**


	49. Chapter 49: Alvie

**_TO: Is it a bird? Yes, and Tall Glass of Water_**

 ** _-You free next thurs? xx_**

 ** _FROM: Tall Glass of Water_**

 ** _-We are scheduled to be at an undisclosed location, I'm sorry. Why do you ask?_**

 ** _FROM: Is it a bird? Yes_**

 ** _-No sorry on secret mission x_**

 ** _T): Is it a bird? Yes_**

 ** _-Kk xx_**

 ** _TO: Tall Glass of Water_**

 ** _-I spent this month's rent on tickets 2 go see sleeping beauty down broadway and i need a friend. Can probs just sell ticket and actualy afford rent now tho_**

 ** _FROM: Tall Glass of Water_**

 ** _-I'm sure we can find rent money elsewhere. Is there nobody else you can ask? How about one of the people at the coffee shop?_**

 ** _TO: Tall Glass of Water_**

 ** _-Dont think the pretentious lit majors will enjoy my company lmao_**

 ** _FROM: Tall Glass of Water_**

 ** _-There must be somebody in there._**

Eva looked up from her phone and swept the near empty café for signs of intelligent, non-beanie-wearing life. The only other person in there was a girl who came in quite a lot now, and tended to sit in the corner and talk to herself. That wasn't the only thing odd about her: at present, she was wearing a flapper dress, flowery tights, cowboy boots and a neon 1980s shell jacket. Fingers tapping away on her phone screen, she relayed the information to Vision.

 ** _FROM: Tall Glass of Water_**

 ** _She sounds just your type. Have fun :)_**

Her shift was practically over anyway; she pulled off her apron and approached the girl- Alvie was the name she used, Eva remembered- while trying, and failing, not to be awkward. Alvie was sat like she normally was, chin on her hands with her elbows on her knees, talking slightly too quietly to be heard. Whether it was into one of those hands-free earpieces or just to herself, Eva didn't know - but still, she had been in much, much weirder company.

"Um," she said, "uh, hi. Alvie, right?"

She looked up, her eyes refocusing a little. "Hey," she said, a little warily but not enough to put Eva off. If she could blag her way into the Plastics of her high school, she could do this.

" _So_ ," she said, scratching the back of her neck. "You're in here kind of a lot, now. And I like you a lot better than all the normal lit major assholes."

Alvie's head tilted to one side. "Are you asking me out?" she asked, sounding rather flattered.

"What?" Eva panicked. "No! I mean, yes, but not like that. I, um, have two tickets to go see _Sleeping Beauty_ down broadway tomorrow and all two of my friends dropped out on me and I was wondering… do you want the other one?" _God, I need more friends._

"The Bourne ballet one?" Alvie asked, and Eva was more than a little surprised that she knew it.

"Yeah."

Alvie stood up, just a little taller than Eva. Despite that, her presence was not a threatening one, and although she looked to be in her mid-twenties Eva did not feel as though she were the younger of the two.

"You're asking a complete stranger to go with you," she said.

"I doubt you're a serial killer," Eva shrugged.

Alvie's face screwed up a little. "You never know," she said, "but yeah, I'll come with you."

%

 _"Vampire fairies!_ " Alvie yelled excitedly, as Eva dragged her out of the packed theatre.

"It was really good!" she said, heart still thumping to the pace of the score, "and-"

" _Gay vampire fairies!_ "

"-the music was really well performed, I've never actually heard Tchaikovsky live before-"

 _"Renaissance gay vampire fairies!_ "

"Renaissance gay vampire fairies," Eva agreed, as they crossed the road into a bar opposite. Alvie, it seemed, was very easily excited. "You want a drink?"

"I'll pay," said Alvie, calming down a bit. "Least I can do."

"Oh, you don't have to," Eva said automatically, internally rejoicing.

"It's fine. A bottle of beer and-"

"Just orange juice for me, thanks." She was still- although reluctantly- teetotal.

"Spoilsport." Al pulled her wallet out of her coat pocket and paid the bargirl, who told them she would bring the drinks over, before pulling Eva over to a table. "So how long've you been in New York?"

"About four years, now," Eva told her, "I moved up here to do my degree, and get away from my nightmare parents."

"Dude, tell me about it." She reached across the table and patted her hand. "It gets better once they die, I promise."

"Uh… thanks, I guess. What about you?"

"Nearly a year ago, now," she told her, taking her bottle from the waitress.

"Why'd you move?"

"I'm... hmmm... on the run," she told Eva in a conspirational voice, who just laughed.

"If you say so." She liked Alvie; she was odd, but funny to be around. Plus, as the evening wore on, her wallet seemed to be endless- and Eva could use a friend like that. So she ended up taking her back to her poky apartment, since, after all, there were some weird people in New York and did you good to know where they were.

"Eva," Alvie said urgently, "your cat is giving me a death stare."

"She does that," Eva said, "her name's Rachel Carson."

"But she's going to _kill_ me!"

"I promise you she isn't," Eva laughed, handing her a mug of tea. "She's about as violent as… something not very violent."

"A sponge?" Alvie suggested. "Nobody ever got killed by a sponge, I bet."

"Sure," Eva shrugged, "a sponge." She picked up Rachel Carson and hugged the struggling animal to her chest. "A fat, lazy sponge. I take it you're not a cat person."

"Yech," Alvie replied, pulling a tabby-patterned hair from her sleeve, "no way. No offense, though."

"None taken. You're from New Orleans, right?" she asked, going by the accent, and Alvie nodded. "What's it like?"

"Noisy. I ain't been back for years, though," she said with a trace of sadness, before brightening again immediately. _This chick is weird as hell_ , Eva thought, _I must be a magnet for crazy. Still, she's cute._ "And is that a Texan accent I detect?"

"Yup. Born and raised Austinite," she told her, "you'd like it there, it's all very… odd."

"Why does that mean I'd like it?" Alvie asked, brown eyes wide.

"… No reason. Say, you like horror movies?"

"Are there any with spaceships in?"

"Um..."

"Aliens?"

"Well," said Eva, "there's _Alien,_ I guess. And _Aliens._ "

Alvie's face cracked into a grin so wide it almost reached her ears on either side. "Perfect!"

 **A/N If you want to know more about Alvie, I'd recommend reading Finding Bucky. She'll crop up in this from time to time as a supporting character, but her own story's going to stay in FB, so don't worry. Additionally - the Bourne Sleeping Beauty is real and very good, so if there's a version of it online somewhere you should absolutely watch it. Also also, double update because we broke 500 (!) and I feel like it.**


	50. Chapter 50

Burying her face in her woolly scarf, Eva stomped up the driveway of the HQ, grateful for the coffee she was holding for once since its heat was stopping her fingers from getting frostbite.

"Morning, Eva," said a voice, and she looked up as Romanov walked towards her, seemingly not feeling the cold in her tight black catsuit. "Sorry for dragging you out here before dawn, but we got an early start."

"'S fine, I get paid extra anyways." Eva was still intimidated by the woman, even though they were on tentative first name terms now. "Um, how are you not freezing to death?"

"I'm Russian," she reminded her, "I laugh at New York winters."

"Fair enough."

"So the Vision tells me you went to the ballet," said Romanov, "was it good?"

She nodded. "It was weird, but cool."

"I have Bourne's Swan Lake on DVD back at Barton's place," Natasha explained, "wanted to know if buying tickets to see Sleeping Beauty was worth it."

"Oh, absolutely. I didn't know you liked ballet. You seemed more of a, uh, cage fighting kinda person."

Natasha raised an amused eyebrow. "You'd be surprised how useful it is when you're trying to break a man's neck with both hands tied behind your back."

"And _that_ is one of the most terrifying things I've ever heard," said Eva, which made the other woman laugh. "I will never see classical dance in the same way again."

"I'm glad I have such an effect on you," grinned Natasha. "Nice work on Thor's crop circle, by the way."

"Thanks, but it's not really a crop circle, those're when someone comes along with a bar and pretends to be an alien by making pretty patterns where they flatten the crops themselves rather than… and you probably don't want to know any of that, do you?"

She shrugged. "You never know when useless information might suddenly become useful. Have a nice day, coffee girl. Try not to become a human ice cube, Rogers has that covered already."

"You too, Agent."

 **A/N Happy 50th chapter!**


	51. Chapter 51

The months got progressively colder and rainier, Eva's gardening jobs became fewer, and one morning she woke up to find a heavy blanket of snow on New York, making the city look almost pristine for once and her journey to work a whole lot more exciting. Christmas was fast approaching, foreshadowed by the apparition of the seasonal gingerbread latte on the coffee shop menu ("I god damn HATE that drink, V! _I can smell gingerbread in my freakin' dreams!_ "). For the last few years, Eva had spent it with her plants and Rachel Carson, eating cold turkey sandwiches and watching Die Hard 2, the one true Christmas movie. However, within the space of a year she had gained both a friend and a boyfriend, which meant for the first time she might actually enjoy the holiday.

It was agreed; she would take Rachel Carson with her to the Avengers HQ on Christmas Eve, sleep over, and spend the morning with all the supers that didn't have family to go home to. Barton had his wife and kids, and took Romanoff with him; Rhodey and Hill were on leave too, leaving the Captain, Wanda, Vision and Sam- and Eva, of course. In the afternoon Eva had promised her boyfriend she would attend Christmas dinner with _his_ family, and their boxing day would be spent at her apartment, watching Die Hard 2. Sometimes in a relationship, you have to learn when to not compromise and put your foot down instead, and seasonal Bruce Willis movies were one of those times.

The last lingering instincts of childhood meant Eva woke up at about three a.m., and leapt out of bed to press her nose against the window. Being a child of Texas meant snow on Christmas Day was still ridiculously exciting for her, and she stayed there until her nose threatened to freeze off. Then she turned round and divebombed Sam, who was still asleep on the bed.

"Wake up, asshole, it's Christmas!"

He groaned and rolled over. "'S too early in the morning for it t'be early in the morning."

"But it's _Christmas_!"

"Go back t'slee', Ev."

But, of course, she couldn't, so she grabbed a small, badly wrapped present and ran next door.

"Vision! Answer the door, it's-"

"Christmas?" he asked amusedly, and she hugged him.

"I brought you a present," she said, blushing slightly as she held it out to him. He held up a finger and beckoned her inside, before picking up a much better-wrapped one and exchanging with her. She tore off the paper to reveal _The Sense of Wonder_ , by the one and only Rachel Carson.

For some reason, her eyes began to burn and she clutched the book to her chest as a lump rose in her throat. "Thank you."

"You are very welcome," said Vision, "and thank you for this." She had bequeathed unto him her own battered copy of _How To Be A Person,_ which had saved her ass more than a few times during college and was too good a present to pass up for her newly created friend.

"So how's your first Christmas?" she asked him, after regaining her composure.

"So far, it has been wonderful. Sam is still asleep, I presume?"

"Yep. As is Rachel Carson- I got him a book on falconry, because I'm hilarious."

Vision laughed.

After a couple of hours, she went back and woke up Sam again, who had gone to a garden shop and apparently bought every packet of seeds they owned, poured them into one large container, stuck a bow on top and told her she'd hit the "flower jackpot". She didn't have the heart to tell him that since they were unlabelled, she wouldn't know what kind of soil to put them in and 90% of the seeds would never actually sprout, but accepted it with a laugh.

They found the rest of the remaining Avengers in the rec room, which had been badly decorated with paper-chains bought from the dollar store that had badly drawn pictures of the most famous superheroes on them, as well as stockings filled with action figures of themselves and a tree with Avenger baubles (the angel at the top's face had been replaced with a tiny photo of Tony Stark, which Rogers in particular found hilarious).

In fact, Steve and Sam were easily the most enthusiastic out of all of them, and spent much of the morning singing carols, eating Christmas cake, pulling crackers and between them wearing a total of eighteen Santa hats. Meanwhile, Vision taught the girls how to play chess, Eva threw walnuts at Sam and Steve, and Wanda told them about her childhood Christmases back in Sokovia, and seemed happier than Eva had ever seen her.

At about one in the afternoon, Sam and Eva bade the rest of them farewell and trudged through the snow out of HQ and began the long-ish walk to Harlem, since driving was a terrible idea in that weather. Seeing as it was those two, the walk quickly devolved into a travelling snowball fight, and by the time they reached Mr & Mrs Wilson's house both were shivering but triumphant. Abbie's husband- Sam's brother-in-law- opened the door and the two were quickly ambushed by the two nieces, each gaining one stuck to their legs.

It was a proper cliché Christmas dinner- they even said grace beforehand. Eva was sat opposite Sam, and within minutes a game of idle footsie had turned into a full-out kicking war which went unnoticed by the rest of the table. They stayed and played old-fashioned parlour games for an hour, then braved the bitterly cold night back to her apartment.

"Nice to be here without your damn cat," Sam said, stamping off the snow on his boots and chucking his coat in a corner.

"Rachel Carson's been here longer than you are, remember," she told him severely, stripping off her soggy clothes. He raised an eyebrow at her. "What? Not like you haven't seen it before, and I am still wearing a bra. That's more than I do normally at home."

"Fair point," he acceded, pulling off his own shirt. She laughed.

"Merry Christmas, Sam."

"And a happy new year," he sang.

 **A/N Christmas chapter! Next update will be in the new year.**


	52. Chapter 52: Fury, Nicholas J

She recognized the man who walked into the coffee shop on New Year's Eve, not because of his appearance, but because of his aura of sheer and unmistakeable cool.

Eva did not want to be working, not on a day when all sane people should be out partying on the streets. But if she wanted to avoid alcohol, this was the only option, even if it did mean sharing her company with Guy-In-Your-MFA type people who thought celebrations were for the shallow-minded.

Well, that and the eyepatch man. He'd been in there a few times before, she remembered, and was one of _those_ customers.

"D'you know," she said, ringing up his order in advance, "you ain't even the first supposedly-dead secret agent I've had in here this year."

"Got in just in time, then," he said, "and I'm not a secret agent."

"No?"

"I'm _the_ secret agent," he told her, and she detected a faint note of pride.

"If you say so," she said, and he glared at her. Pissing off supers was her favorite hobby. "Back in town for the fireworks?"

"Something like that," he said. "I hear you're a semi-permanent fixture at the new HQ, coffee girl."

"Who told you that?" she asked, and he just smiled coolly. "Well, I wouldn't go quite as far as semi-permanent. The atmosphere's a bit… intense."

"That would be because it's a working military base, Miss Kresk."

She didn't even bat an eyelid at people knowing her name anymore. "On the house," she said, handing him the cup, "seasonal goodwill, and all."

"And a happy new year to you too," he said. "Although working isn't the way I'd spend it."

"And yet here you are," she said, "you don't strike me as the type for celebrations, Mr Fury. I hope whatever super-secret mission you're on goes well."

The second time round, his smile was somewhat more genuine. "You're a lot smarter than you let on, girl. And thank you, by the way. I actually don't get that a lot."

"I try my best," she said. "Have a nice night, sir."

"You too." He walked out the shop, all swagger and pirate-ness. Although maybe that was because of the eyepatch.

 **A/N normal service, ie Friday updates, has been resumed. In other news, I've been thinking about doing an anthology-type-thing of one shots and short fics that are along the same lines as The Civilian Chronicles, ie it's about normal people in the MCU who are just trying to get on with their lives, as opposed to heroes and villains- except, obviously, the heroes and villains keep turning up and interfering. Would y'all be interested? The first one is actually a reader-insert oneshot, about 700 words, involving Captain America. I'm thinking of publishing it as a taster, but only if people are interested. Let me know!**


	53. Chapter 53

"Eva!"

"Alvie?" she said, surprised. "I don't remember giving you my number."

"Really? That's weird. Listen, I need a break from work. Do you want to go shopping?"

"Um-"

"Great. Meet you at the head of Fifth in ten." She hung up, and Eva stared at the wall as her brain processed what had just happened.

"Well," she said to Rachel Carson, "I guess I'm about to engage in some retail therapy."

%

"I don't actually have any money," Eva told her new companion as they worked their way through the crowds at the fancy mall. "Like, at all."

"Don't worry about it, _whodi,_ " said Alvie vaguely, her restless eyes flicking from storefront to storefront as she kept out of the main crowd of people as much as possible. "this is me paying you back for the ballet. Hella loud in here, ain't it? Shoulda come later. Ooh, this place looks posh."

She dragged her into an indeed very posh looking clothes store, wherein they both looked ridiculously out-of-place. "Alvie?"

"Yeah?"

"D'you ever wear, like, normal stuff?"

Alvie looked down at her miniskirt, fishnets, Doc Martens and patterned silk shirt (she had left her WWI-era trench coat in the cloakroom. Eva was in silent awe that mall was posh enough to _have_ a cloakroom). "This isn't normal?"

Eva shook herself a little. With Alvie, you had to talk a certain way to get an answer that made sense. "I mean, all from the same decade. Maybe even this decade, too."

"Oh, no. I just put on what I like," she said, "and I like lots of stuff."

"I know," said Eva, "I just had an idea." She nodded at a sign- _PERSONAL SHOPPERS AVAILABLE ON DEMAND,_ it read. "Humor me, will ya?"

Alvie chewed her lip, talked indistinctly under her breath for about half a minute, then- "sure. I kind of wanna hide from the crowds for a while, anyway. They give me a headache, all the people talking and being here at once, together like."

"Completely understandable," Eva lied.

She ended up trying on a pair of black pants with a green shirt, translucent enough both to show off her tattoos and which put her in mind of leafy canopies. More importantly, her butt looked amazing in the outfit, and she spent a solid ten minutes staring at it while waiting for Alvie to finish getting changed. She could hear her in the compartment next to her, humming tunelessly as she clattered about.

"Okay," said Alvie eventually, raising her voice high enough to be heard. "I'm ready. Don't laugh."

Eva doubted that she could be surprised by whatever she chose to wear (or rather, what the shopper chose for her), since the two times she had already seen her had led to her having absolutely no expectations of the woman's attire. However, when they both stepped out of the changing room on the count of three, Eva's jaw dropped.

She was dressed _normally_ \- or at least, normal for a very rich woman going to a fancy dinner. She was wearing a blood-colored dress that clung to her body, accentuating the curves in all the right places while still being demure enough to look fancy. A younger Eva would have been jealous of her new friend's looks, but now she just admired her. There was, however, an important problem.

"Nah," she said fervently, "'s weird. Ya look weird 'cuz ya look normal. I don't like it."

"It's so uncomfortable," she wailed, "I can't move my legs, I had to jump out here and I nearly fell over."

Eva sniggered. "You look very hot, but very unlike you."

"That's because I _am_ very hot. But I am also a lot like me, so it's not gonna work." Eva snorted with laughter in a very unladylike manner. "I'll buy it anyway, though. I'm rich. You look cute too, by the way. Your butt looks amazing."

"Thanks," said Eva. "That's what I thought." She was actually enjoying herself, she found; she loved Vision and Sam, but it was nice to get away from superheroes for a while, and she doubted Alvie had a secret alter ego.

 **A/N if you're wondering about that last line, I'd recommend reading Finding Bucky. And while we're on the subject of my other terrible MCU stuff- you all seemed very eager, so expect the Civilian Files to come out within a couple of weeks. :)**


	54. Chapter 54

"Good morning, Eva. What are you doing?"

"What?" she looked up at him from her position, sat cross-legged in a circle of dirt and pots in the middle of the Avengers' rec room. "I thought it was only ten!"

"It is twenty-seven minutes past two, a.m."

"Crap." She yawned, stood up, and picked up a large ceramic pot and hammer. "I have work in the… in a few hours." She looked down at the mess. "It was gross outside and your administrator's paying me to do something, so I figured I'd make fairy pots."

"I beg your pardon?"

She poked a completed one with her foot. One face of the pot had been smashed out and the shards wedged into the dirt inside it, winding upwards like a staircase. Another, much smaller upturned pot with a hole in it made a shelter with a small "doorway" at the top, which was surrounded by tiny ferns and wildflowers. "I found a tutorial online ages ago, and thought they were cute."

"They're lovely."

"Mmm," she agreed, smashing the side of the last pot. The sudden movement shook her exhausted body, and she staggered. "Whoa. I… I think I should sit down."

"That's probably wise," Vision said. "No, not-"

But it was too late; she had flung herself down onto the floor, into the shards of pot, and impaled the palm of her hand on one of them. "Shit," she said weakly, her eyes watering more at the embarrassment of not listening to him and suffering because of it than the pain itself.

"Hang on." He crossed to the bar and pulled a first aid kit from beneath it before crossing back to her and kneeling down. "Give me your hand and I'll clean it."

"Thanks." She sniffed. "God, I'm such a burden."

"Don't be ridiculous." He pulled out the shard and cleaned the wound with antiseptic before unrolling a bandage. "You're doing wonderfully, I might add."

"You're a very sweet liar," she said, wiping her eyes. "It's weird, it didn't even hurt compared to some of my tattoos."

"Maybe you aren't as inclined towards pain as you once were," he suggested, and she raised an eyebrow.

"Ya think?" she asked, "I thought that was one of my key characteristics."

"I beg to differ," he countered, "you have changed massively since I first met you, and you are still inarguably Eva Kresk."

"How?"

"Well," he said, "you seem a lot happier, even when you're at work."

"That's just a façade," she grinned, "really, I hate everything."

"You also seem to have a lot more patience than you did six months ago."

"Only 'cuz you were a good influence on me, V."

"That doesn't change the fact that you are," he smiled. "And it's been at least two months since you last set fire to anything, I should add. Or drank alcohol."

"That you've seen… and also in general," she admitted. "Why do you have to be right all the time?"

"Specifically and only to annoy you," he said, tying off the bandage. "You shouldn't use your bike with that hand; would you like me to take you home?" Sam was out that night with the Captain on the side mission he always refused to tell her about.

"If it's not a bother."

"I would be happy to spend some more time with you." They both stood up. "Although we should probably clean this up first."

"Eh," she shrugged, "we can leave it to Security Pete."

"Eva," he said severely.

"Fine, fine." She sighed, nibbling on her thumbnail, and Vision gave her a piercing look.

"What else is it, Eva?"

"Hm?" she said. "Oh, nothing." She shrunk under the look he was giving her. "Well, nothing important."

"Surprisingly," he said, "I don't believe you. Come on." He took her hand and led her out of the rec room, and up a flight of stairs she had never noticed before.

"Where are we going?" she asked, a little cautiously.

"The roof," he replied, "I find it's easier to think up there."

He wasn't wrong; up on the highest part of the HQ all she could see were the trees and the glittering skyline of the city in the distance, looking like some weird alien planet in the night. Eva shivered, pulling her arms back into her hoodie, and as they sat down Vision wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

"Tell me what's wrong," he said, "and I know you well enough to see when you're lying."

She half-smiled. "It's stupid, really. It's just-" she pulled her knees into the hoodie as well so she was like one big warm egg with a head. "It's that Sam – and I love Sam, he's great, bit up himself but really wonderful, it's just that – he gets nightmares. Which is understandable! I mean, if I'd been in half the battles he had, I'd get nightmares too. But I don't…" she tilted sideways and fell against Vision. "He doesn't wake me up when he does, and I kinda wish he did, but I don't know what I'm supposed to do. I don't know how to help, or make it better or anything. And I feel awful, because he's been nothing but good to me, and it's not… it's not _fair._ "

Vision's hand tucked her hair behind her ear. "Some things cannot be helped," he said slowly, "not even by the best of us. But I think – and you have to understand that I speak only for myself here – I believe that just you being there is more than enough. To know that you are loved, despite your failings, is the most important thing. If I were Sam, just seeing I was not alone would be enough."

"Really?" she said, counting the stars and looking for constellations that he had taught her. "You really think that just me is enough?"

"Eva," said Vision sternly, "just you happens to be one of my favourite things I've ever encountered."

She beamed. "Cool," she said, "and… thank you, for being my voice of reason. As ever."

"It was no problem."

"Can we stay up here for a bit longer?" she asked. "You're right, it's nice."

"Of course."

She traced patterns in the sky, like a stellar dot-to-dot. "That one's Orion, right?"

"It is indeed."

"See," she said, "I learn. I listen to people when they tell me stuff. Sometimes."

 **A/N double update to make up for the OC-heavy previous chapter. In other news, I've been binge-rewatching Being Human (UK) recently. Anybody fall into a pit of TV/movies over the holidays?**


	55. Chapter 55: Battle of New York

_From "Your Battle", a journal collection by The New York Times and Humans of New York_

 _Eva, 21_

This is the story of the Battle of New York.

I mean, not the one you know, with the Avengers zipping round blowing up alien heads and generally saving the day, as they apparently do, but my story. Which is probably going to be a lot less exciting, but everyone knows the Avengers story, right? Nobody knows the Eva Kresk story except me, because I am, in fact, Eva Kresk.

I only had one lecture at college the day that Loki ripped the sky a new one, but obviously I was late for it anyway. It was a morning one, though. Nobody's ever on time for 9am lectures. So anyway, as you can imagine, I wasn't in the best mood by the time I got to the lecture hall- I hadn't showered or eaten, I appeared to be wearing mismatched shoes, and some asshole had spilt Red Bull down my leg on the way in. I hate Red Bull, by the way, so I was doubly late because I spent ten minutes in the bathroom, trying to get it out with a damp paper towel. And when I finally do get to the lecture, instead of letting me quietly slip in like any half-decent person would, my professor decides to have a massive go at me, because the universe hates me.

I had been in New York almost a year, at this point, and the city had inarguably toughened me up. If I had got a bollocking from a teacher a year before, I would have started crying. However, having spent a couple months in a service job (which we'll get to later) in the US' most famous city, I had completely lost the ability to put up with people's shit, unless I'm getting paid for it. But in this case, I was paying, via my ridiculously expensive tuition fees, to be yelled at.

So I snapped. I told my charming professor to stick his tardie card where the sun doesn't shine, and stormed out. This was the beginning of my long and turbulent history with that university, which was so… heated, let's say, that I thought they would fail me before even seeing how bad my exam and dissertation grades were.

So it's ten in the morning, I am not having the best of days, and the moment I set foot on the pavement outside, an alien tries to rip my head off.

"Seriously?!" I scream to the world in general, ducking as a ginormous, gooey, clawed hand swipes at my face. "Are you shitting me?! HOW CAN THE UNIVERSE HATE ONE PERSON SO GODDAMN SHIT-FREAKIN' MUCH?!"

"Ma'am, duck!" 

"I SODDING WELL ALREADY AM DUCKING, THANK YOU VERY MUCH, NOW WHO THE HELL ARE YOU?!"

As I went into full on losing-my-shit mode, a shiny, patriotic Frisbee flew over my head and smashed into the alien's face, sending it flying backwards. Then a MAN freaking GRANDE JETÉ'D OVER MY HEAD to grab his spangly Frisbee out of the alien's only-its-mother-could-love face and turned to face me. Clearly, this man loved America. He looked like Uncle Sam on steroids. A lot of steroids.

"Get back inside," he ordered me, and ran off. I later learned that this man was Captain America.

I checked my watch; the lecture had finished by this point, and I glanced behind me to see the rest of my class with their noses pressed against the glass doors. I had a shift in the coffee shop to slave through, but clearly that wasn't viable anymore.

Or is it? As the battle wages around me, I consider my options. One: go back inside, with a professor who hates me and a class of whom not one person has ever made an effort to talk to me, and wait in safety until ET goes home. Two: risk my life, run through the hordes of ugly, murderous aliens, get to my job on time and not get sacked. Clearly, there is only one thing I can do.

I bend down and retie my boots, scrape my unwashed hair back into a ponytail, reposition my bag and square my shoulders. "I'm going to die," I say confidently, and run off into the fray.

Luckily, my route to work is mainly back-alleys, which I don't think aliens have much interest in. One of them lumbers towards me at one point at a really quite alarming speed, but I slam the gate shut behind me and, thank God, alien hands are not suited to opening latches. I make it to the avenue in Manhattan which holds my place of work without a scratch on me.

I sprint across the road, eyes fixed on the people tucked safely behind bulletproof windows (Mr G is a paranoid old git) and slam into the door, thoroughly winded as I stagger back from it.

"What the hell?" I roar, slamming my fists on the glass. "Let me in, douchebag!"

Behind the glass, Mr G shakes his head. To be fair, at this point I am probably a greater threat to his continued wellbeing than the alien invasion.

I scream in frustration and take two steps back. I try to figure out how to get out of this godawful mess, when I remember something a friend told me ages ago, when I told them I was moving here. She was convinced I was going to get shot (I come from Austin, which is the most ridiculously friendly place in the world, and she had never left town before) and was instructing me on simple life-hacks that, at the time, I thought would only come up if I was a trained assassin.

Bulletproof glass like Mr G has (although I'm not sure if this is universal) is only able to flex and absorb impact in the middle.

The street is a wreck, so I run to the corner where a building has been struck and pick up a chunk of brick from the rubble before running back to the coffee shop.

"Stand back, assholes," I yell, and lob the brick over my shoulder at the corner of the window.

So on the plus side, I survived the Battle of New York. On the minus side, that window cost me six months' wages, and while the rest of the world hailed them as heroes I regarded the Avengers as a group of stupid costumes who managed to make my bad day go even more tits up.

And now they're my friends. Weird, that.

 **A/N something slightly different than usual. I have no idea how true the bulletproof glass thing is, by the way, since it's secondhand information. And if you're wondering why there was no update last week, it's because I published the first chapter of The Civilian Files, which you should totally read. If you want.**


	56. Chapter 56

"The pair of you never cease to surprise me," Vision remarked, as he walked past Eva and Wanda sat on the floor of the rec room. This was warranted by the fact that Wanda was very carefully painting Eva's nails.

"We're gonna have a pillow fight and talk about boys after this," Eva declared, "just to really set back feminism."

Wanda rolled her eyes as Vision laughed.

"I shall see you both later," he said, closing the door behind him.

"He's got a point, though," Eva said, as Wanda finished the base coat. "I wouldn't have put a revolutionary like yourself down as a manicurist."

Wanda shrugged, opening a bottle of absinthe green nail polish. "When we were younger, before our parents died, my brother and I wanted to run a salon together," she explained, and smirked a little at Eva's shocked expression. "I know, it seems stupid now, but it was our dreams. Pietro would make people's hair for them, and I would paint nails."

 _Make people's hair_ , Eva thought, _I love the way people talk in second languages._ "What happened to that dream, then?"

"Reality," said Wanda. "When… when we were being enhanced, we were not well treated, but we put up with it for the results that would happen to us. And one day, Pietro asks to bleach his hair, and they say he is not allowed to buy the dye. That was the only time I cried, the whole of when they had us."

Eva thought of the photos she had seen of the Maximoffs during the (literal) fall of Sokovia; the boy's bleached hair, and the girl's flawless black nail varnish. Maybe the salon dream made some sense after all; surely they hadn't grown up wanting to be supers.

"Is it getting easier?" Eva asked, noticing Wanda had stopped painting. "Missing him, I mean."

"No," she said quietly, "but I am also getting better at it."

"I guess repeatedly killing the guy that did it kind of helped," she said, at a loss for what else to say.

Wanda smiled in her melancholy way. "Kind of," she agreed, unscrewing the bottle again. "I hope you don't mind green."

"It's my favorite color," she replied, "what about yours?"

"Scarlet."

"… And Pietro's?"

"Silver."

"What was he like?" Eva asked, blowing on the nails of her other hand to dry them faster.

"I believe the word Americans use is 'asshole'," she said with a small smile, "but he could be sweet, when he wanted to be. He was a good man."

Eva screwed up her face as she thought back to the time around the Battle of Sokovia. "Average height," she said, "kinda hot, faster than Tony Stark trying to get away from one of his ex-girlfriends?"

"You met him?"

"Only once," said Eva, "yeah, he was… alright." She tried to think of any redeeming qualities of the impatient customer other than the fact he had a very nice face, but drew a blank. "I, uh…"

Wanda caught her eye and burst out laughing. "Yes," she said, "speechlessness. _That's_ the effect Pietro often had on people, one way or another."

 **A/N this chapter is kind of short but fear not, my children, for next week begins an EXCITING 3-4 chapter arc which is EXCITING and also EXCITING. Also I just finished act one of Finding Bucky, so now is a perfect time to pop along and read that in case you haven't already. Also also, my buddy old pal wishingforahome also writes an Avengers fic which, if anything, is a lot kinder towards Tony Stark and Pietro Maximoff than I am, so if you like them go read that. Seriously though, I do not write them as particularly likeable people. Maybe it's because Eva's as bitter as the beverages she sells.**


	57. Chapter 57

Eva hummed the score of _Cherevichki_ as she wandered along the HQ corridors, coffee grate in her hands. She was thinking about what Vision had said to her the other day; even if she had admitted it at the time, she _was_ happy, an emotion that had been practically alien to her before. It was weird, that her resting feeling was actually a _nice_ one, as opposed to a few months ago when she had just been sort of perpetually gloomy. She knew she was still quite crappy, of course - but there was something nice in knowing people liked and loved her regardless. It made the world seem a little bit kinder. The only times she got close to how miserable she had been before meeting him was when they were all out on a mission, and she was stressing over whether or not they would come back alive.

It was Sam she worried about the most, and not just because he was her boyfriend. His PTSD still woke him up most nights, and she knew he would be far too happy to take the bullet for one of his teammates. He was reckless, too; he wasn't one of the original Avengers, wasn't the government's version of Iron Man, and he felt he had the most to prove.

 _Still_ , she thought, _it's not like he can't look after himself. He_ is _Falcon, after all. I recall him mentioning that to me, once or twice..._

"Yes, I'm tryi- no, of course sir, I understand. Just give me more time."

Eva halted as she heard the voice of the administrator round the next corner, seemingly on the phone to someone. She knew it would be wrong to listen in, but whatever Vision said she was still comfortable with the fact she was a terrible person, so had no problem with creeping slightly closer.

"No, nobody has any idea, sir. I can remain- I understand. Yes, sir." There was the sound of a door slamming nearby, and footsteps coming from another direction. "I have to go."

Eva peered round the corner, watched as the administrator hung up her mobile and tucked it into the pocket of her skirt. Trying to appear normal, she straightened her shoulders and strode forward, just as Security Pete came round the opposite bend.

"Morning, administrator," she said brightly, handing her a cup of coffee. "How're things?"

"Good, good," said the woman distractedly. "If you'll excuse me-" her heels clacked as she power-walked away.

 _Weird,_ Eva thought as a dishearteningly familiar security guard came into view from the direction of the slamming door.

"Morning, Pete," Eva beamed.

"I hate you."

"That's nice, dear. Have a nice day!" she called after him. "Douchebag."

She dropped off the Avengers' orders in the conference room and exited the building, pulling on her bike helmet as she left. The administrator's conversation bugged her, although she couldn't quite figure out why; it had sounded like a business call, which was nothing out of the ordinary.

She returned to the coffee shop, mentally prepared herself for yet another shift of serving Guys-In-Your-MFA, and forgot about it until almost midday.

"So this poor girl," the college man continued as Eva whipped up his order, "she's completely neglected her underlying symbolism through the piece, and there's nowhere near enough focus on the protag's boyfriend, who's much more interesting than the main character herself, and she spends half the damn story on her damn _phone-_ "

Eva dropped the mug. "Holy shit!"

"Pardon?" he asked, blinking owlishly in the way certain people did when they realised that the world did not, in fact, revolve around them.

"That's it!" she exclaimed, "you're a genius!" She looked down at the shards on the floor. "Whoops."

"Why am I a genius?" the man asked, cautiously.

"Oh, nothing. Go sit down, sir, I'll bring it over in a minute." She'd figured out what was wrong with the image of the administrator on the phone.

All Avengers employees used patented Stark© earpieces.

Of course, many of those who worked there had phones for their private lives, but that hadn't been a personal call. So the administrator had another employers- which was understandable, many people juggled jobs these days, but she had a full-time position. And what's more, she didn't want anyone to know about it…

The question was, of course, what to do next. Eva's first thought was obviously to go to one of the Avengers, but an overheard phone call was hardly evidence and besides, they would be much more likely to believe the administrator than a gardener. No, she would have to investigate further, and she knew that if Sam or Vision found out they would stop her immediately due to the risk of danger, and the matter would be pursued no further.

No, if Eva was going to do this- and she was, of course she was, no self-respecting token normal friend of superheroes would leave this alone- she would have to be sneaky.

 ** _To: Alvie in Wonderland_**

 ** _I need you to teach me how to hack xxx_**

 **A/N dun dun dunnnnn!**


	58. Chapter 58

"Thank you for agreeing to this meeting," Eva gushed, as she sat down opposite the administrator at her desk. "I know you're a very busy woman."

She laughed. "Consider it a favour. Now, you wanted to talk about-"

"The copse surrounding this place," Eva finished for her, sticking one hand into her trouser pocket and unlocking her phone. "It looks like you've got a pretty serious case of ash dieback."

"I see," said the administrator, tapping away at her computer. "And you-" Eva heard a quiet beep emanate from the woman's earpiece, about half a second after she had pressed a button on the app Alvie had installed on her phone. "I'm sorry, Miss Kresk, would you excuse me for a moment? I'm needed at the front gate."

"Of course," smiled Eva, and as soon as the door closed behind the woman she jumped out of her seat and vaulted over the desk to her computer screen. She tapped the buttons Alvie had told her to, only taking a couple of goes to get it right, and the internet history that the woman had tried to hide opened up on the screen. "Aha!"

It took her ages to wade through it and actually figure out what everything said, but eventually- and after many false starts and a near-complete system failure- she found something suspicious. She clicked on it, stuck a USB in that ran a password-guessing software, and opened the documents. It was all very top-secret looking Avengers stuff, things an office administrator most definitely shouldn't be looking at, and then she noticed something else. Communications from someone external to the company.

HYDRA.

Fingers shaking, she downloaded the evidence onto the USB, pulled it out and closed everything just as the administrator walked back in.

"What are you doing?" she demanded, cool business façade slipping for a moment.

"Oh," she said, tucking the USB back into her pocket, "I just wanted to check the time, and my phone battery's dead. I've-" she slammed her palm into her forehead- "I'm an idiot, I arranged this meeting and completely forgot I had work, like, ten minutes ago. I'm so sorry, we'll have to do this another time."

"I-"

"It was lovely seeing you though!" Eva yelled as she ran back down the corridor, heart thumping madly in her chest.

HYDRA. HYDRA in the Avengers, and _she,_ the god damn _gardener_ , was the only one who knew. And where the hell were the Avengers? Freakin' _Africa,_ with no way for her to contact them and an important enough mission to keep them there a while. And Maria Hill scared her, and probably wouldn't believed her anyway... but _HYDRA!_

 _"_ HYDRA!" Eva yelled at Rachel Carson, later that day. "What am I gonna do?"

"Mew."

She looked at herself in the mirror, green eyes meeting green and her hair, freshly dyed black, all messed up due to the fact she had pulled it out of her ponytail in stress. It was a kid's face, really, a kid who shouldn't be involved in this... so at least the administrator wouldn't suspect her.

"It's no good, Rachel Carson," she sighed, "I'm gonna have to save the day. God _damn_ it."

 **A/N short chapter because SUSPENSE and I couldn't think of anything else to write. But if you're wanting more and don't want to wait until next week, there's a new oneshot in The Civilian Files that has Tony Stark in it, not to mention Nick Fury drinking a Starbucks, because reasons. And as much foreshadowing as I could get away with by guessing what's going to happen in these films, so we'll see how well that turns out once the Infinity Wars start.**


	59. Chapter 59

Eva didn't see the Avengers for the next couple of days; they were away on still away on that mission, and on the day they were due to return the administrator called to rearrange their meeting. Eva really, _really_ didn't want to go, but if she wanted to avoid arousing the woman's suspicions she would have to.

She _still_ hadn't figured out a way to save the day. Those crappy movies made it look a lot easier than it was, and Rachel Carson was contributing _nothing_ to the brainstorming process.

Nothing seemed off when she arrived at the HQ; it was slightly emptier than normal, but then the Earth's Mightiest Heroes took up a lot of space. The administrator was her usual smiling self as she accompanied Eva back to her office, and the girl had calmed down to the point that she didn't even notice the _click_ of the door being locked behind her.

"So glad you could make it this time," said the administrator, and Eva shrugged as they sat down.

"I'm not busy on Sundays, as a rule. Now what was it you wanted me to-" she froze as the woman, still smiling, pointed a handgun at her across the desk. "Oh."

"Hand over the USB," she said sweetly.

"I don't have it."

"Of course you do. You're not going to leave something as important as that lying around, are you?"

Scowling, Eva dug her hand into the pocket of her leathers. "Hang on," she said, "these are difficult to get stuff out of." Before closing her fingers around the memory stick, however, she unlocked her phone, tapped Vision's speed dial and muted it without looking. "Here you go."

The USB skidded across the desk; the administrator grabbed it with her free hand. "I figured you weren't smart," she said reflectively, "what with your chosen career, but I never expected you to be _stupid_ enough to hack my computer, while thinking I wouldn't notice."

Of course- Eva hadn't asked Alvie to show her how to do it without being tracked, and she knew the other woman well enough to realize that it wouldn't occur to her to show Eva something without being asked to. Eva herself, meanwhile, had naively assumed that she had. "I'm not stupid," she said defensively, "I'm smarter than you. Clever enough to figure out who the good guys are, and that HYDRA's a load of fascist killers."

"It's more complicated than that."

"No," said Eva, "no, not really. I think you're so deep into their web, ma'am, that you can't see the forest for trees. HYDRA's evil, and foul, and… and evil," she finished, lamely.

Something flickered across the administrator's face, and she pulled back the safety on the gun. "Of course," she said, "I'm going to have to kill you too, now."

There was the distinctive whirr of a quinjet's engines as one landed on the helipad outside the window, presumably with the Avengers on board. "Then they'll find you standing over my dead body."

"I managed to lie my way through SHIELD job interviews without arousing suspicion, girl, you think I can't worm my way out of that?" she asked. "You and one of the security guards don't get on, correct? I'll say there was an altercation, that he pulled out his gun. And then I'll shoot him, too. The costumed idiots will think that I did it trying to save your life."

"You're sick," said Eva, hoping the disgust in her voice would hide the tremble of fear. "You're a sick, twisted freak. Go on, then. Shoot me." She started to rise from her chair.

And the administrator shot her.

She felt the bullet pass, in exquisite high-definition pain, through her midriff, and heard it rip through the door behind her. She pressed a hand to her side, and pulled it away to see it slick with hot red blood. Everything seemed to be getting slower.

"Oh," she said vaguely, "you did."

"It will take them three minutes from hearing the shot to reach here," the administrator told her, as Eva fell to her knees. "By which time, you will have bled out, and I will have shot the fool of a guard, too." She dropped the gun on the table. "I never was a fan of firearms," she said softly, "a person more skilled than myself would have thought to shoot you in the head. But you know how it is… heat of the moment…"

"Three minutes," Eva managed to say, through gritted teeth. She could feel heat leaking out of the wound, but with her other hand pulled her phone out of her pocket and chucked it screen-up on the floor in front of her. "That include if they were listening to the conversation?"

 ** _Connected: Tall Glass of Water_**

" _What?_ "

"You shot the wrong gardener, bitch," Eva spat, and behind her, eyes blazing with cold fury, Vision kicked the door down and went straight for the woman's heart with the jet of light that emanated from his forehead.

 _"Eva!"_ she heard someone yell, and darkness overcame her.

 **A/N in the words of Michael J Caboose: CLIFFHANGER! Also, "you shot the wrong gardener, bitch" is the most badass line in this fic. Along with "you're god damn right you should be scared of me, I'm the Winter bleeping Soldier" in Finding Bucky (except with less bleeping) and "Divine intervention" in OMAMM, which is in a chapter that hasn't been updated yet but trust me, when it happens, it's awesome. Anyway. WHAT WILL HAPPEN TO EVA?**


	60. Chapter 60

When Eva woke up she was lying on a cold metal table with a machine repeatedly running over her body, and it felt like someone was knitting her skin back together.

"Morning," she heard a familiar voice say, and she tilted her head to see a bloodshot-eyed Sam sat beside her. "You look like hell."

"Not so good yourself, asshole. Why am I being scanned?"

A pretty Asian woman in mint green scrubs walked up to her. "We're healing your wound," she said, "give it a couple of hours and some bedrest, and you should be good as new."

"Oh," said Eva weakly, "wonderful."

"I should've made you promise not to do anything like this again after Oscorp," said Sam, mainly to himself.

"I would've done it anyway." She reached out and squeezed his hand. "And imagine what could've happened if I hadn't. Don't blame yourself Sam, everything worked out fine in the end."

"Apart from you getting shot."

"Remember the time I skidded beneath a lorry? I'm looking at this like I did that; like a really cool anecdote which I can regale people with countless times." He laughed at that, and someone else walked into view. "Morning, Cap'n."

"Afternoon, actually," Steve smiled, leaning against the wall in his star suit. "I guess we owe you again."

"Just tighten your security policies so you don't hire maniacs and we'll call it even," she said. "What happened to the administrator?"

"She's alive," Steve said, "barely. We packaged her up and sent her to the authorities - she won't be seeing daylight without the bars of a cell over her window for a very long time."

"So long as she's alive," Eva mumbled, not wanting Vision to have blood on his hands because of her. She winced as a new layer of skin sealed over her wound. "Is this supposed to burn?"

"Yep. Same thing Ultron used to make Vision, actually."

"Where is the Oompa-Loompa?" she asked, surprised that he wasn't with her.

Sam shrugged. "He found and brought you here, then disappeared before the rest of us had even got off the jet."

"Doesn't sound like him," she said.

"Well," said Steve, "his best friend did just get shot."

"Can we please stop talking about her getting shot?" Sam asked. "I'm trying to repress it, for the sake of our relationship."

Eva grinned. "I should probably tell you, um, I have neither health insurance nor the money to pay for this."

"Don't be ridiculous," said Steve. "I'll leave you to rest. Nice shirt, by the way."

She glanced down at the pajamas someone had changed her into; rolled up to the bottom of her ribcage so the wound could be reached, the phrase _Cool Kids Mosh to Tchaikovsky_ was emblazoned across her baggy tshirt.

"Thanks," she mumbled, and Sam sniggered.

%

When she woke up it was night, and Sam was dozing, leant forward on his arm. The machine was turned off and her side felt as good as new, and save for a slight dizziness she guessed was down to blood loss, she felt fine. She had been unplugged from the IV stand, too, so she stood up on bare feet, scribbled Sam a note on a piece of scrap paper she found and left the med bay.

She was only in her pajamas, so went back to Sam's apartment and changed into some spare clothes before fetching her bike from the garage. "Don't faint," she told her body, buckling on her helmet. The roads were nearly empty but it still took her longer than it normally did to get into the city, and she parked around the block from Central Park.

Eva found him where they had first sat together, under the branches of a rowan tree. He stood up and turned as she walked towards him.

"Hey," she said, trying to look better than she felt.

"I'm sorry," he said immediately, "I saw you bleeding out and I - I panicked, I lost control. I couldn't stay there and watch you -"

He was cut off by her hugging him, as tight as she could manage.

Eva felt his arms settle around her in return, and they relaxed in each other's familiar grip. "Aren't you upset?" he asked, and she hated that she could hear a slight shake in his voice.

"Of course I'm not, V. You saved my life! And besides, any human would've freaked out in that situation, you have nothing to be ashamed of."

She felt his chin rest on the top of her head. "Are you alright?"

"Good as new, they put me in that machine thingie. You're kind of terrifying when you're angry, you know."

"I am not going to lose you, Eva," he said fiercely, his arms tight around her. "I refuse to let that happen."

"My weird guardian angel," she smiled, and let go of him. "You even fly, even if you don't have feathery wings. Are _you_ okay?"

"You should not be asking me that, Eva. Not when you have just been shot."

"Too bad. You look awful, as much as you can do, I guess." She took his hand. "Would it make you feel any better if I promise never to try and save the world ever again?"

"Somewhat," he admitted. "I think twice is more than enough, don't you?"

"If you insist."

 **A/N and thus this little story arc is all tied up and finished, with normal service to be resumed next week. Did you like it? It was a little different to what I normally do in this fic. ALSO: since there seems to be a lot of conflicting interests of ships going down in the reviews of this fic, I've set up a poll to find out which is most popular. (I love that Eva/Vision has a proper name, and that I didn't even come up with it. Evasion. AMAZING.) Please have your say, I'm fascinated to see which would be most popular!**


	61. Chapter 61: Stark Industries

"Kresk!"

"Mr G?"

He hung up the work landline - an authentic, red, bake-o-lite dial-up telephone, of course - with a slightly dazed expression. "Tony Stark just ordered two iced caramel lattes, one with an extra espresso shot."

"Nothing new there," she shrugged, "up to and including getting Miss Potts' order wrong, as per."

"No," said Mr G, "he- he's in California, he said he got a craving for our java. He wants you to fly it over, asap."

She stared at him. "Seriously?"

He nodded. "There's his private jet waiting for you at the airport."

She whipped up the drinks as soon as she could, put them in a coolbox and biked down to the airport, where a couple of security guards were waiting for her. She was taken round the side of the building straight to one of the private landing strips, where a perfectly groomed air hostess was waiting for her outside a flashy jet with _Stark_ stencilled across the side.

"Good morning, Miss Kresk," she smiled, and Eva wondered how she wasn't freezing to death in her blouse and pencil skirt. "Please, step aboard."

"Uh," said Eva, "thanks."

"The flight will take approximately five hours. Do you have the drinks? We can refrigerate them for you during the journey."

She handed the woman the two cups and sat down awkwardly in one of the seats, unzipping her leathers and pulling them off to the waist.

"Hot towel?"

There was a little television that rose up out of the table in front of her; she watched the 1992 _Dracula_ as the US disappeared beneath her and the cloud banks, then dozed off for the rest of the journey with dreams of a gothic Gary Oldman. The air hostess woke her as they landed in a cool, although much warmer than NY, California, and a large man in a suit escorted her off the plane and up to the overlarge building that housed _Stark Industries._

"This is your ID," he said brusquely, and she juggled the cups into one hand to take the pass from him. "Please make sure you are wearing it at all times, or you will be assumed guilty of nefarious activities and will be either removed from the building or detained until further information as to your identity is gained."

"Chill, dude," she said, clipping the badge onto her shirt, "it's just a coffee run."

The building was all glass partitions and sharp designer businesswear; she felt very out of place, with her leather and tattoos and general demeanour. The man showed her up to the CEO's office, and pushed open one of the massive mahogany doors.

"Happy!" Tony Stark exclaimed, who was perched on the edge of the desk with his legs swinging to and fro beneath him. "Hope you've been a hospitable host to the charming Miss Kresk."

"Eva," Pepper smiled, standing up from her seat behind the desk and walking round to greet her. "So lovely to see you again. Tony tells me you're quite the fixture up at the HQ now."

"Like mold," said Stark cheerfully, and Eva glared at him.

"One caramel with an extra shot and one skinny chai," she said, handing them the drinks.

"That's not what I ordered."

"No, Mr Stark, because you ordered two caramels."

"Tony," said Pepper exasperatedly, "you know I don't like sweet things. When have you ever seen me drink caramel latte?"

"Last… year?" Tony hazarded, and Pepper rolled her eyes.

"This is the strawberries all over again. Thank _you_ , Eva, for coming down here. I know it must have seemed ridiculous just to travel all this way for a drink."

"It's fine," said Eva, "got me out of doing the rest of my shift. I don't have to pay for my flight, right?"

"Cheapskate," muttered Tony, and Pepper whacked him round the back of the head with a file.

"Of course you don't." She took Tony's wallet out of his jacket pocket and handed over a wad of bills.

"Thank you, Miss Potts," said Eva, marvelling at the biggest tip she had ever received.

"Oh, it's no problem."

"So," said Tony, "I hear you didn't dodge a bullet."

"Nope. Unfortunately, one Vision had to swoop in and save my ass at the last minute."

How _is_ my Frankenstein's Monster?" Tony asked, sipping at his drink and making a noise of appreciation.

"He's wonderful. Somehow managing to out-moral-compass the star-spangled man with a plan."

"Good," said Tony, "nice to see he's taking after his father. Smart _and_ wise."

Eva snorted.

"Are you alright?" Pepper asked, and Eva waved a breezy hand.

"I'm fi-i-ine," she said lightly, "not even a bruise. Thank you for asking."

"Well, we're glad to hear it."

"Are we?"

" _Tony!_ "

"Sorry."

"Hmph. Happy, show our guest out will you?"

"Yes, Miss Potts."

"Bye, short round!" Stark called after her, and Eva heard Pepper sigh as she left the room.

 **A/N because Tony Stark would 110% do something like this.**


	62. Chapter 62

Eva was at home, designing her latest garden commission, when her phone rang.

"Hooker hookup service, what can I do for ya?" she asked, shoving Rachel Carson away as she tried to walk over the mess of paper.

"Good morning, Eva. You don't happen to have the virus that's going round, do you?"

"The flu thing? Nah, my hay fever meds work as a preventative for that, too." Pretty much the entirety of NYC had come down with the bug, which was nasty enough to make the news while not actually having killed anyone. The city had ground to a halt, or at least as much of a halt as New York could ever come to. "What's up?"

"They say you have to promise not to laugh," said Vision, amusement in his own smooth voice.

"Cross my heart."

"The entire base has come down with the virus, I'm afraid to say, and it's rather pitiful to look at. Almost the entirety of the staff are off sick, and we could do with a friendly face as well as a little extra manpower. Womanpower, rather."

"Has anyone _not_ got it?" she asked, standing up and pulling on her boots.

"Captain Rogers has a boosted immune system, so he is not exhibiting any of the symptoms. And myself, obviously. Of course, if it is too much of a bother-"

"Of course it isn't," she said, "I want to come and laugh at y'all. I'm on my way."

%

A very snotty-sounding man opened the gate for her, and she realized how many people there normally were running round the base, now that it was deserted. She wandered the empty corridors until she heard a noise coming from the gym, where she found Steve assaulting a punchbag as though it had personally insulted his mother.

"Morning, specimen," she said, and he stopped, breathing heavily. "V called me, said you might need an extra pair of hands."

"We do," he replied, unwrapping his own knuckles of the bandages they were ensconced in. "I just hope nobody takes a stab at world domination over the next couple days, because there's no way we're gonna be able to stop them. You don't know anything that might help, do you?"

"I can make 'em hot drinks if you show me where the kitchen is, I guess. But according to the news, they'll just have to wait it out until the symptoms pass."

"We're not really the type to wait things out," Steve informed her. "You want to come see them?"

"Obviously."

They were all in the rec room, along with every single duvet, blanket and pillow Steve and Vision could find; Sam, Wanda, Romanoff (who looked a little better than the rest, but only because she was sitting up and had just one blanket), Colonel Rhodes, Barton and even Hill.

"Clint's priority here so he doesn't pass it onto his kids up on the farm," Steve explained. "We've got Doctor Cho in the labs, trying to find something that dulls the symptoms down. Erik's having to be her lab assistant, we're so low on staff… Where's Vision?"

"Behind you. Hello, Eva."

"Hey, Oompa-Loompa."

"Wh'za?" said a muffled voice from beneath a pile of duvets. "Ee-buh?"

"Morning Sam," she said cheerfully, "you look _wonderful_."

A hand emerged from the pile, and stuck its middle finger up at her.

"Wilson," Romanoff rasped from the sofa, "you know Steve doesn't like us to be rude like that."

"Ha ha," said Steve drily. "V, any change in vitals for them?"

"None worth noting, captain. Although Agent Romanoff appears to be coping significantly better than the rest."

"In Mother Russia we eat colds for breakfast," she said, in a mock-heavy accent. "Like poptarts."

"It would be nice if that applied to the rest of Eastern Europe," said Wanda miserably, who was curled around a pillow. For once, the dark circles around her eyes were natural instead of make-up.

"If Ultron could see y'all now," Eva smirked.

"Please talk more quietly," said Barton in a delicate voice, then blew his nose and discarded the tissue onto the mountain of them beside him. "It hurts my head."

"I'M SO SORRY!"

The entire room groaned, and the three remaining uninfected exchanged amused glances.

"I'll make cocoa," said Eva.

"I'll turn up the heating," said Vision.

"I'll fetch more blankets," said Steve. "Reconvene here in ten?"

"I'll see ya both then."

%

A few hours later and the infected had all fallen asleep in a big, muscly, sweaty heap on the floor. Doctors Cho and Selvig- both wearing surgical masks- came to take their blood, and one of the three remaining security guards tidied away the empty mugs while Eva, Rogers and Vision pulled blankets further up over them.

"I called the old folks' home," Eva told the Captain as she nudged a pillow beneath Sam's head, "Peggy's already had the bug and she's fine- well, she's the same as she was before it."

"Good," said Steve, "and thank you for telling me. I should've found out myself, it's not your problem to worry about."

"Dude, you got enough on your plate," she said.

"Eva's right," Vision agreed, "you are not isolated as you were back in the 1940s, sir. The Avengers, Ms Carter's family, Eva, we are all happy to help carry some of the load you bear."

"Exactly what I was trying to say," said Eva, "thanks as ever, V, for being smart."

"You are very welcome."

Steve laughed softly. "You two're like chalk and cheese," he remarked, "and somehow it works." His eyes settled on the pile of gently snoring bodies. "Aren't they adorable?"

Eva pulled out her phone to take a picture. "This is _so_ getting tweeted," she told the other two.

 **A/N one of my fav chapters. And** ** _oh my god that civil war trailer Wanda I love you but stop hurting my maroon robot okay I've got enough to worry about with Bucky going on the run I DO NOT NEED THIS_**


	63. Chapter 63: The Mandarin, Kind Of

The next customer was a bedraggled-looking man in late-middle-agehood; he grinned at Eva as he approached the front of the queue.

"Um," she said, once again feeling like she recognized him, "can I help you, sir?"

"Ooh! Yes, please," he said, in a slightly slurred cockney accent. "I would like…" he glanced at a disapproving man in a suit by the door, who nodded once. "I would like the most expensive thing you do!" he declared, and giggled.

"Sure," she said, more than a little weirded out.

"I'm Trevor, by the way," he said, extending a hand. "Trevor Slattery."

"I… feel like that rings a bell," she said slowly, and he nodded enthusiastically, pulled out a pair of old fashioned sunglasses and slipped them on before sobering his expression into something near terrifying. "Oh! You're the Mandarin!" she realized. "I thought you had been arrested."

He leaned close to her and tapped his nose. "Higher powers have decided otherwise," he said, in a very loud whisper. "This is, as they call it in the books and shit, my last supper. Or at least, they think it is, heh heh."

"Ri-i-ight."

"I saw a phrenologist once," said Trevor, very earnestly. "He said that my cranium was destined for great things. He wasn't wrong! My mother would be... so proud." He pursed his lips and bowed his head for a moment. "Excluding my actions in the summer of '98, of course. Gambling has always been the greatest of my vices. But it was a bloody big boat, I still maintain that."

The suit came forward to pay for his drink, and gave her a look that conveyed that Eva's telling anyone Slattery was here would result in her death - and that was if she was lucky. Trevor waved goodbye to her as he was practically dragged out of the shop, and it took her about half a minute to regain some grip on normality.

She was friends with the Avengers, after all. She probably should tell them that the bloke who everyone had _thought_ was one of the world's foremost terrorists had bought a drink from her. But then she had also promised to stay out of world-saving stuff, and she had just been given a very threatening look, _and_ he was just some stoned guy in a pair of sunglasses. He seemed to be about as much a threat to world security as a kid on their My First Laptop, so she decided just to pretend the meeting had never happened.

Just another normal day in the life of Eva Kresk.

 **A/N can you tell I'm running out of superheroes? Civil War needs to hurry up already, I need fresh meat. (And yes, there will be a Jessica Jones chapter, as soon as I find time to watch Jessica Jones.) Mind you, Trevor is objectively my favourite character in the MCU.**

 **(Sat in the back of my head is a small epic detailing the events of Trevor Slattery's life post-All Hail The King oneshot. Whether it will ever actually see the light of day is a matter for another time)**


	64. Chapter 64

_"I can permit you your adventure, Mr Jarvis. But you must also allow me to wring my hands from time to time."_

 _– Ana Jarvis_

"WHAT THE _HELL_ DO YOU MEAN, YOU LOST HIM?! HE'S SIX FOOT THREE AND PURPLE, YOU SPANGLY BASTARD! IT'S NOT EXACTLY A GAME OF WHERE'S FREAKING WALDO!"

"Eva," Cap said loudly, as Sam held her back, "calm down, him and Nat are perfectly capable-"

"I WILL SHOVE THAT SHIELD UP YOUR BACKSIDE IF ANYTHING HAPPENS TO HIM, YOU PATRIOTIC DOUCHEBUCKET! STAR FIRST!"

"Told you she would be pissed," Sam told his friend and boss over her screaming.

"You know how to calm her down?"

"Hell, no. Babe, if I let go of you will you not punch anyone?"

"I'm not making any promises," Eva replied shortly, but she had stopped struggling. Tentatively Sam released her and she folded her arms. "What happened?"

"Him and Romanoff found something we weren't expecting on an op, they went to go investigate and told us to find them a while later. We couldn't, Steve contacted Nat and she said not to worry, they would get back of their own accord."

"Have you heard anything from them since?" she asked, and Steve shook his head.

"They went deep, Eva, they would've compromised their mission if they had contacted us." He gripped her shoulder reassuringly. "If they're not back by the end of the week, we'll send out a search party, I promise."

"Anything could've happened by then!" she protested. "Why can't you go now?"

"Complicated superhero reasons," Sam said helpfully.

"Shut your whore mouth, Wilson," she scowled. "So you just _wait_ for them to turn up?"

"Not exactly," said Steve, just as Sam said "pretty much."

"You're both useless." She ran her hands through her hair and tried to control her breathing. _He'll be fine,_ she told herself, _he can fly, and he has a laser face. He'll be fine._ "Y'all are terrible for my blood pressure, y'know."

"If you're really worried, call in sick to work and you can stick around here until Sunday," Sam suggested, "then you'll know anything as soon as we do."

She chewed her fingernail. "Can I bring in Rachel Carson?"

"Who?" Steve asked blankly.

"Her dumb cat."

"She's not dumb!"

"Don't see why not," Steve shrugged, "she'll hardly be a threat to security."

"'Kay. Thanks Sam, Mr America."

%

"You sure Sam's cool with this?" Rhodey asked her.

"I wouldn't stretch quite as far as cool," she replied, "hence why you're here and not him. But he has reluctantly admitted it's a good idea. And don't tell V, if and when he comes back."

"My lips are sealed," he replied, "keep both hands on the gun at all times, fingers off the trigger. Pull back the safety, close your dominant eye and brace yourself against the recoil, you ready?"

"Mmhmm," she said, one open eye narrowed down the barrel of the handgun.

"Fire at will, then."

The shooting gallery echoed with the gunshot, and the target across the room sustained a pretty impressive hit to the shoulder.

"Not bad for a first try," Rhodey said, "try to keep as still as possible, and exhale on the shot." This time, she hit the outline in the chest. "There ya go, you killed… whose face is it you drew on there?"

"Uh… it sort of represents a lot of people," she admitted, "I'm working through some stuff."

"Works better than therapy, in my experience. Now try again, and aim for the head."

"That's what I've been trying to do," she muttered. "When do I get to have a go with a Gatling?"

"Never."

"Rocket launcher?"

"Also never."

"Ugh. Fine."

%

The two Avengers returned on the Saturday, and apart from the spectacular black eye Romanoff was sporting they both seems relatively unharmed. Someone told Eva they were in the infirmary so she sprinted down there at top speed and cannonballed into Vision, who laughed and hugged her back.

"Next time you decide to do something like that," she told him shakily, "think of me, and then _don't bloody do it_. Do you have any idea how stressed I've been? I've cried more throughout the last three days then I've done in the rest of my life combined, V. You scared the shit out of me."

"Sorry," he said, and she saw he was smiling and punched him on the shoulder.

"It's not funny! Ouch." She rubbed her knuckles. "Are you alright?"

"I'm _fine_ ," he assured her, "there's no need for you to worry."

"Hmph," she said, "what happened to Romanoff?"

"Nothing she cannot handle, I assure you."

"At least tell me you got the thing you were looking for or whatever," she said, "because if this was all for nothing, I'm just gonna dig my grave now."

He laughed. "Yes, we did," he told her, "and I promise I won't disappear like that again without telling you first."

"Thanks," she mumbled, "sorry for being angry at you."

"Completely understandable. And I gather from the good captain that I didn't get the worst of it, either," he said.

"I am so filled with rage," she said.

"Especially considering that you aren't the tallest of people," he said, "it's really quite disproportional."

"Oi!" she grinned, "don't push it, Oompa-Loompa."

 **A/N I! Love! Ana! Jarvis! SO MUCH! Also since I've had a lot of requests for characters last chapter - I'll most likely do any super that crops up in the MCU, so expect Spidey, Black Panther, Doctor Strange,** ** _hopefully_** **the Guardians of the Galaxy if they ever make their way to Earth (because Groot and Eva, man), etc etc. I won't do X-Men because they're not in the same cinematic universe and I don't really follow those films anyway (sorry...), and for the same canon-based reasons Deadpool is also a no-show. That being said, I might do a oneshot for him and post it separately in the near-distant future, and it shall have fourth wall breaks and R-rated swearing and everything. As for TV programme characters, I'll most likely do one character per show so if you're requesting the Bus team, Coulson's likely the most you'll get (BUT keep a close eye on Finding Bucky in future, wink wink). Am I missing anyone? I** ** _think_** **that's all the bases covered. But if you're requesting someone and they're MCU canon, they'll pop up sooner or later :)**


	65. Chapter 65

Tomorrow was Valentine's Day. Eva was vaguely aware, due to the promptings of one Mr Sam Wilson, that this was quite important, but unfortunately it had been overshadowed by something much more critical. Something imperative and necessary to the wellbeing of womanhood everywhere.

"Galentine's Day!" she said ecstatically, and Alvie clapped her hands in delight. They were sat having a pizza picnic in Central Park, with the unseasonal sunlight beating down on them and filtering through their intangible bubble of friendship and happiness. Eva _liked_ having a female friend she could actually do this with.

"Galentine's Day present!" Alvie yelled, handing an oddly-shaped box to Eva. They traded, the gardener handing the other woman a bag. " _Ooh._ "

Eva opened the box. Inside it was a ukulele, which Alvie appeared to have decorated in her own… _eclectic_ manner with several dozen dried flower petals and some varnish. "How did you know I can play ukulele?" she asked, giving it an experimental strum.

"I know everything," Alvie said. "Although I did think it was a bit too close to hipster for you to do."

"Everyone has their dirty little secrets," Eva shrugged, "did you know you can play Tchaikovsky on uke? It sounds a bit weird, but what doesn't? Thanks, you wonderful human being. Open yours."

"Okay, but I'm not really that bothered about gifts, ya know, I kinda have everything already so don't worry if – OHMYGAHDYOUGOTMEAFREAKIN _LIGHTSABER!"_

"Cost me a week's overtime, that did," Eva said proudly. "You like all that scifi stuff, right?"

"Right!" said Alvie, leaning over her pizza box and planting a kiss on Eva's forehead. "We should do this every day."

"Don't really have the budget for that, honey," said Eva, dabbing away the lipstick mark Alvie had left, "but I appreciate the thought. So how're things?"

"Oh," said Alvie, "ya know. Keepin' busy." As she spoke, she slowly dissected the last slice of her pizza – eating the different toppings, one by one, then peeling off the cheese, eating that, tearing away the crust and eating that last, after what was left of the rest of the pizza. Eva didn't even bat an eyelid at Alvie's weird habits anymore. Her own pizza-eating technique was to roll it up into tubes and see how much she could inhume in one mouthful. "My boyfriend called last night."

"Ah," said Eva, "the mysterious boyfriend whose name I still don't know."

"It's a secret," said Alvie, with the grin she always wore when she talked about him. "What about you?"

"Sam's busy," Eva shrugged, "there's lots of stuff happening right now, I think. Stuff with the government, and all that. It's complicated, you know? I just stick to mowing their lawn."

"And boring," Alvie said, "don't forget boring. Lotsa boring superhero stuff."

Eva laughed. "I think we're the only two people in the world who think superhero stuff is boring."

"Probably. And the trees? How are the trees?"

"What," said Eva, "in general?"

Alvie shrugged.

"I mean, the rainforests are having kind of a hard time right now," she laughed.

"Really? Why?" Alvie asked, popping an olive in her mouth and readjusting her hat, which had almost as many flowers on it as Eva's new ukulele.

Eva cocked her head to one side. "You really don't watch the news much," she said, "do you?"

"It's a bit doom and gloom," Alvie said offhandedly.

"Well, that's putting it lightly." Eva popped open a can of Coke and clinked it against Alvie's weird green smoothie. "Happy Galentine's Day, Al."

"You too, Evaline."

" _Don't call me that!"_

 **A/N Galentine's Day: the world's most important national holiday that isn't actually a national holiday. Now, you may be thinking one of two things: "hey! This isn't Friday, and yet we get an update!" and/or "but Galentine's Day was weeks ago!" (Unless you're reading this in the future, in which case skip this A/N. It will mean nothing to you.) So the reason for this is - I had significantly more prewritten than I thought, Civil War comes out earlier than I had guessed, so we're going back to twice-weekly updates! Yay! I'm shunting the Coffee Run timeline back a couple of months to allow me time to update the pre-Civil War chapters and actually, y'know, figure out what I'm gonna do about Civil War. Apart from cry. So there'll be a couple of dates mentioned in future chapters to help plot where we are in chronology, and while that happens you get twice as much as you normally do. I think, because of life, updates after Civil War will most likely be a fair bit less regular, so make the most of this while it lasts, kids.**


	66. Chapter 66

"So you knew the original Jarvis?" Eva asked in an awestruck voice, sat at Peggy's bedside. "What was he like?"

"The very archetype of a British butler," Peggy recalled fondly, "really rather blundering when out of his comfort zone, but also incredibly loyal. Stark really created an AI to replace him?"

"From what I gathered," she nodded, "I think he missed him."

"It sounds like the sort of thing Howard would do," Peggy said, "and now you're his closest friend. Funny, how small the world is sometimes."

"Tell me about it," said Eva drily. "Can't move for superheroes most days."

"I just wish Steve was still alive to see this," said Peggy with a trace of sadness, "he was the first of them, after all."

"I… yeah."

Peggy's Alzheimer's was getting worse. A few times now she had forgotten who Eva was, and was convinced she had only been moved to the Brooklyn home a couple of days ago. A lot of the time now, she would talk like it was only the 1970s at latest, and Eva had started wearing dresses borrowed from Alvie's thrift-store wardrobe when she visited her to avoid having to explain her 21st century clothes. Eva and Steve had agreed it was easier for everyone not to explain things every time they visited, but as much as she loved the former head of SHIELD her visits got more and more painful each time.

Still, they had their advantages.

"Did I ever tell you about the time Howard tried to hide one of his girlfriends under the table of a conference room during a four hour meeting?"

"I don't believe you have," she grinned, "please, do go into details."

"Oh, gladly, my darling. You see, he was lucky I was two minutes earlier than the rest or he would have been caught with his trousers down, literally."

"Oh, dear God."

"That's what he was saying. So I had to try and negotiate the first deal between STRIKE and SHIELD with a half-naked secretary at my feet and the most insufferable playboy I've ever encountered trying not to crack up. And then halfway through she fell asleep, which would have been a mercy if it hadn't been for the snoring."

"It keeps getting worse," Eva whispered through her fingers. "Please tell me that's it."

"Not even close."

 **A/N super-short chapter but who cares because it's Peggy, right? Everyone loves Peggy. I also wanted to avoid going into detail to keep this as a child-friendly fic. I'll leave it to your imagination to decide what happened next.**


	67. Chapter 67: Jessica Jones

"That's a cute tattoo you got there."

Eva didn't meet the gaze of the hipster man as she made his latte, but she could feel his eyes on her. "Which one?" she asked, in her best customer-service voice. Her shirt had ridden up beneath her apron, which meant the inked skin of her hip was visible as she leaned over to operate the coffee machine.

She could hear the grin in the man's voice. "That would be telling."

 _Creep,_ she thought, not for the first time since working in the coffee shop. It was so early on a Sunday morning that customers were still coming in drunk from the night before, and that was never an enjoyable shift. "That's five dollars twenty please, sir."

"Hang on," said the man, leaning on the counter ( _I'll have to disinfect that now,_ Eva thought), "you didn't finish my order."

She blinked. "Yeah, I did."

The woman behind her customer in the queue glanced up at them, made an impatient face, and went back to tapping away on her phone.

"No," said the man, "I also asked for your phone number."

"Well," said Eva, "I'm sorry, but that's not on the menu."

"Not even the secret one? I hear there's some wild stuff on there. You look pretty wild, if you don't mind me saying."

"We don't have a secret menu," said Eva, "Mr G ain't creative enough for that. Are you gonna pay, or what?"

The man was still grinning. She could smell stale beer on his breath. "I still haven't got your number," he said in a sing-song voice.

"Do I need to kick you out?" she asked, and the guy raised an eyebrow.

"I'd like to see you try," he said with a wink.

" _Right._ " Eva snatched the cup off of the counter and emptied it into the sink behind her. "Leave, _now._ "

"Whoa!" he laughed, "you're feisty! What're you gonna do, sweetheart? Manhandle me?"

"Hey," said the woman behind him, "asshole. Do as she says."

The man turned around and met the flinty gaze of the next customer. "Hey there," he said, "seems like I'm sandwiched in by two cute chicks. My night just took a turn for the better."

"What the _hell_ did you just call me?" the woman asked.

"It's fine," Eva said wearily, "ma'am, please, I can deal with him…"

"Yeah," said the man, "I'd love to let _her_ deal with me."

"That's it!" snapped the woman, and grabbed the man by his scarf. "I do not have the energy to deal with pervs like you this morning!" She dragged him with a surprising amount of strength into the street outside, dropped him onto his feet, and when the man tried to get a hold of her waist she smacked him round the jaw with a right hook that sent him flying into the road. Dusting off her hands, the woman marched back inside, slammed the door behind her with such a force the glass rattled in its setting, and took her place at the front of the queue. Her knuckles weren't even bruised.

"Um," said Eva, "thanks."

"No problem," said the woman brusquely. She was tall and kind of pretty, with dark hair and dark clothes. "Double espresso, please."

"On the house," Eva said, and the woman's mouth twitched into a half-smile.

"You're cute," she said, and squinted at her name tag. "Eva. You get guys like that in here often?"

"Not really," Eva lied, and the woman raised an eyebrow. "I deal with it."

"Well," said the woman, "if you ever need someone to chuck a creep through a window, call me." She took a napkin from the holder and scribbled a name and number down on it. _JESSICA JONES,_ it said, with a Hell's Kitchen landline.

"Hey," said Eva, "you live round by that Daredevil guy. Ever thrown him through a window?"

"I wish," Jessica snorted, and as Eva handed over her cup she took a hipflask from her trouser pocket and turned it into an Irish coffee. Eva tried not to drool at the thought of how good that would taste, even if it _was_ coffee. "You want some?"

Eva shook herself. "Nah," she said, "I, uh, I'm reluctantly teetotal."

Jessica raised an eyebrow. "What are you?" she asked. "Twenty, twenty one? And you already got a drinking problem. Girl after my own heart, Eva. See you around."

The coffee girl blushed. "You too," she said, and watched as Jessica walked out onto the street, landing a quick extra kick on the prone form of Creepy Hipster Guy as she went.

 _I think I'm in love._

 **A/N ask and ye shall receive. Also, having now watched it I think me and Jessica Jones might be soulmates. And not in a platonic-Evasion-friendship type way, either. In a gay way. I mean, I'm drinking whisky from a hipflask as I type this. IT'S DESTINY.**


	68. Chapter 68

"Eva," said Hill as she brought her coffee into her office, "I have a proposition for you."

"Ma'am?"

"Do you want a permanent job as gardener here?" the woman asked, hardly being one for small talk. "I asked our new administrator and he agrees, we need a stable groundskeeper. There's not enough work to necessitate it being full time and of course, you'd still be at liberty to pursue projects with other companies alongside, but since you're around here half the time anyway we figured you would we best for the job. We wouldn't even need a personality screening to make sure you're suitable, we know you so well already."

Eva stared for a couple of seconds with her jaw hanging somewhere around her knees, then blinked. "Oh my god- I mean, yes! I'd love to work here full-time," she said, "I mean, I haven't got much experience, but-"

"Don't be ridiculous," said Hill brusquely, giving her a small smile. "There is one condition, though."

"Hm?"

"The team refuse to have anyone else make their coffee, so you'll have to do that every morning. We'll order the same machine you use for the kitchens, if that's alright with you."

"Um… sure," Eva said in a daze. _Holy cow, I've got a job._ "I wouldn't let anyone else do it, anyway."

"I thought you'd do that," said Hill. "If you drop in on the administrator on your way out, she'll sort out your wages and other formalities."

"… Okay…"

An hour later, she was trying to figure out how to write her letter of resignation to Mr G, when she realised she couldn't. As much as she hated the damn job, it was what had brought her and the supers together in the first place, and she was just a little too sentimental to let it go. That, and with two jobs she might actually be able to afford things like central heating and new clothes. God, she missed new clothes.

"I'll just work Saturdays," she murmured.

%

"Full name?" an anonymous voice said through the intercom.

"Evaline Chloe Kresk," she said a little nervously, eyes on the pulse monitor that connected to the lie detector.

"Date of birth?"

"March nineteenth, nineteen ninety-four."

"Do you have a criminal record?"

"Um… I got arrested for being drunk and disorderly in 2011, I think."

"You think?"

"It's all a bit blurry," she shrugged.

"Next of kin?"

"I don't think I have one. My parents disowned me and I don't have any other living relatives, so… I dunno, probably Sam Wilson."

"Hmm. In order to pass Avengers security, you'll need basic defense and weapons training."

"Rhodey and Sam've already got me covered on that, actually. I have a beta-level security pass, too."

There was a pause. "Maintenance staff should only get gamma-level."

"Oh. Well, it was Captain Rogers who got it for me, so…"

"Fine. Why do you want to work here?"

"I like plants," she said, "and all my friends are here. I'm actually not that bothered about superheroes, the novelty kind of wears off once you've seen them without caffeine about a bajillion times. Which I actually think makes me pretty well-qualified for working here."

"Heh. Well there's still some stuff we need to get through, but I think I can safely say welcome to the Avengers HQ, Miss Kresk."

She beamed.

%

When she got home, there was a well-wrapped package on her chair, underneath Rachel Carson. She lifted the cat off of it with curiosity- only two other people had keys to her apartment, and brown paper with string wasn't really Sam's thing. She unwrapped it and three things fell out.

The first was her new ID, with a very unflattering picture and her godawful full name. Along with it was a set of soft green overalls with the Avengers "A" logo and "KRESK, GROUNDSKEEPER" embroidered across the breast- the material appeared to be waterproof and well insulated, perfect for working outside in all weathers, and she knew from a glance that they would fit perfectly. Lastly there was an envelope, indeed with her name in Vision's handwriting across it- she opened it to find a congratulations card.

 _Dear Eva Kresk (alias Coffee Girl)_

 _Hope you're not sick of us already! Sorry about Thor's crop circles and where the turf is torn up from when Sam got beaten up by a man the size of a pea, but you'll manage it. You're one of us now- you've got a supersuit and everything. There was a 60/40 vote against giving you a cape._

 _Love,_

(This part was in several different hands) _Vision and Sam and Mr America and Wanda and Clint and Nat and Hill (she's your superior, so no first names apparently) and_ _Iron Patriot_ _Rhodey and Thor (although he's in Asgard but we told Jane to pass the news on) and Pepper (also on Tony's behalf) and Doctors Cho and Selvig and anyone else we've forgotten xx_

"I'm an Avenger, Rachel Carson!" she exclaimed, and burst into tears.

 **A/N fluffy chapter (set in February, still. I've got this timeline thing under wraps). Also - have you read the Discworld books? Because if you do, I've just uploaded the first chapter of a Discworld fic involving highwaymen and stupid names. And if you don't,** ** _oh my god do you not realise you are missing out on what might objectively be one of the best book series ever written my personal favourites are Jingo and Witches Abroad but you can pick up pretty much anywhere really you need to read those things they're so important and funny and sad and SO GOOD -_**

 **Ahem.**


	69. Chapter 69

Eva was digging over some fossilized turf near the Avenger HQ's coppice border when a pair of arms wrapped around her arms and lifted her into the air.

"What the fu- SAM!" she screamed, wavering between wanting to punch him or cling onto his super suit for dear life. "PUT ME DOWN!"

"Sure," he said, and let go- a hundred and twenty feet above the ground.

She screamed as the lawn rushed up towards her, desperately praying to anyone who might be listening for a miracle, and just as she was close enough to smell the grass Sam dived in and pulled her up into the air again, laughing. He soared up to the HQ's roof on his mechanical wings and dropped her gently onto the gravel, at which point she promptly turned around and whacked him.

"Ow!"

"Never do that again, Sam Wilson!" she yelled, pointing a trembling finger in his face. He grinned back at her. "God, I hate you."

"I know. Man, I hope the security cameras caught that." She groaned. "C'mon, staff meeting."

"Y'all actually have those?" she asked, trotting after him to the door as curiosity overrode her indignation. "Jeez, this place is like a real life sitcom."

"Gotta get the admin done somehow." The scanners picked up their IDs attached to their clothes, and she followed him down to the conference room. "I brought the gardener."

"Good," said the administrator, who was stood at the head of the table along with Hill and the captain. Also there were the Avengers (excluding Wanda and Rhodes, who were on an op), the head of security along with Eva's best buddy Pete, the chef, the public military liaison officer, the boss janitor, a Stark rep, the accountant, a couple of other guards, and the administrator's PA. And Eva. A circus would look like an ordinary group of people in comparison.

There was also a distinct lack of coffee; Eva made a mental note to remedy this in future. While Sam took his place to the right of Rogers, she stood near the window with Vision, who had been saving her a space. "You look a little windswept," he whispered, "did Sam give you a lift, by any chance?"

"Hmph," she said, and waved him forward to go and stand with most of the other superheroes at the front

The meeting was actually kind of boring at first- Cap didn't go into detail on the missions, and the rest was all admin and publicity stuff, really- that is, until Eva got a text, about ten minutes in.

 ** _From: Is it a bird? Yes_**

 ** _You'll want to listen to this part x_**

"… The production company has assured us it'll be completely impartial," Hill was saying, "but after Ultron, and what with Ross doing everything he can to turn the government against us, it's pretty obvious they're looking for some dirt. These aren't the kinda films you starred in during the forties, Steve. Sorry."

"So I don't have to wear tights?" Rogers asked, and there was a small ripple of nervous laughter.

"What's happening?" Eva whispered to the guard sat next to her.

"Some hacks want to make a documentary," she replied. Barton, who was on her other side so he could get a better view of everyone else in the room, leaned over to join their conversation.

"Inside the A-Team, they wanna call it," he explained, "y'know, like that One Direction movie."

The other two both stared at him. "Seriously?" Eva asked.

"What? I have a daughter!" he said reproachfully.

Eva snickered, and raised a hand. "If they're trying to make us look bad," she said, "why are we inviting them in?"

"To prove them wrong," said Hill. "Quite frankly, we need the good publicity."

"So… there's just gonna be, like, a camera team round for a couple weeks?"

"That's the plan," Cap told her. "Please, everyone be nice to them."

"He's right," said Hill, "best behavior, people. Let's prove Thaddeus wrong, shall we?"

"Stark doesn't think he's wrong," someone pointed out. "Not on some stuff, anyway."

Hill pursed her lips. "What Stark thinks doesn't matter right now," she said, "it's what the average guy on the street thinks that does. Hell, look at the recent Watchdogs activity, all the internet hate groups… we need to prove that Enhanced humans aren't just benevolent, that they're just like everyone else. Hence why we let the cameras in – let them see you as humans, not people on a poster."

"And remember, guys," Romanoff added with a smirk, "no swearing. Steve wants us to be well-behaved."

"Very funny, Nat."

"Who's Ross?" Eva whispered to Barton, as the meeting ground relentlessly onwards.

"Secretary of State. Wants everyone who could make HYDRA's old super-threat algorithm ping on one end of a leash. The other end being in his hand."

"Doesn't sound like you like him very much," Eva said, and the archer shrugged.

"I was never very good at politics. I wouldn't worry about it if I were you, coffee girl. We'll sort it out, we always do."

 _Yeah,_ Eva thought, _with a hell of a lot of collateral damage, usually._ But she bit her tongue before she said it out loud – even she, a lowly gardener and barista, could sense how tense everybody was. _Not my problem,_ she reminded herself. _Keep your head down, Kresk. There's a storm coming, and this is no argument for a civilian like you._

 **A/N I rewrote this chapter about five minutes ago to make it a lot more Civil War-y. That being said, this entire little plot point was done just so I could make the One Direction gag. The lengths I will go to to make a bad joke are unfathomable.**


	70. Chapter 70

"Eva?"

"Hey, Peggy," she smiled, bringing in a fresh bunch of flowers to replace the tired-looking ones in the vase next to her bed. There were more wires in the woman than last time, more tubes running in an out of her, and a glance at the clipboard on the wall told Eva she could no longer get out of bed.

"Did you cut those yourself?"

"I did indeed," she nodded. "How are you?"

"Marvellous," she murmured, and coughed. "How's your new job, darling?"

"My coworkers are a nightmare," she said with a grin, "which reminds me, I brought a friend to see you."

"Eva, you needn't - _Steve!_ "

"Hey, Peg," the soldier smiled, crouching down at the side of her bed. "I missed you."

"But- but I thought you were dead," Peggy stammered, eyes welling over with tears.

"So did everyone," Steve said, struggling to smile. "You haven't changed a bit, you know that?"

"Oh, don't humour me. Steve, my love, I-"

"Hey." He kissed her forehead. "I know, sweetheart. I know. But I had to come back, didn't I? My best girl still owes me a dance."

A small sob wracked Peggy's frail body. "I can't," she whispered, "I can't dance, Steve. I can't even sit up."

Eva realized she was crying too, and retreated back out into the hallway where she pressed her hands against her mouth. _Pull yourself together, Kresk._ But it was awful, the whole damn thing, and there was nothing she could do to help, so she just stood there in the hallway and tried to muffle her stupid bloody sobs.

About half an hour later, when she was sat on the floor and picking absent-mindedly at the laces of her muddy boots, Steve came out and took the spot on the floor next to her.

"She's asleep," he said quietly. His eyes were red. "Thanks for coming with me."

"She's not gonna last much longer," Eva said, "is she?"

He shook his head. "She deserved better."

"So do most people." Eva laid a hand on his forearm in an attempt to comfort him. "I should go, my bike's kinda illegally parked outside."

"Only kind of?"

"Well, it's only half in a no-parking zone, so…" she tailed off, and Steve laughed quietly. "You're a biker too, right? I've seen your ride, it's nice. For a Harley."

He nodded. "I've crashed more than my fair share in the past. _Literally_ in the past, since I've barely had a chance to go fast since the forties."

"We should have a drag race," Eva decided, "use the landing strip round the back of HQ, it barely gets any use 'cos of the way the quinjets land."

"It's not exactly responsible," Steve pointed out, to which Eva huffed.

"Come on, you're a rebel and you know it. Besides, it'll make _great_ material for that documentary."

"I'm not sure if drag racing our gardener is how I wanna be portrayed to the general public," Steve replied.

She batted her eyelids at him. "Pretty please? It'll be a chance to get payback after when I thrashed you at pool."

"Well, when you put it like that," he said with a smile, "I'm out on ops tomorrow, but I'll be back by Sunday."

"Midday, then. Prepare to eat dirt, Rogers."

"I wouldn't be so sure about that if I were you, kid. I've got a lot more experience."

"Ah, you spent the vast majority of your life refrigerated. I ain't worried."

%

 _Sunday, 11:53am_

 ** _To: Oh, Captain, My Captain_**

 ** _Where are u? Im waiting to beat ur pretty face into the dust x_**

"Right here, Kresk," a voice said behind her, and she turned to see Rogers walking up to the head of the strip from the direction of HQ, wearing a biker jacket and jeans. She hummed appreciatively. "Getting nervous?"

"You wish. No helmet?" she asked him, as he walked over to one of the two identical bikes that had been gifted to them for this purpose by courtesy of Stark Industries, along with the following message:

 _I'm not sure who I want to lose more –Tony_

"I don't need one," he said, and Eva tutted.

"You're setting a bad example," she said, pointing to the camera crew behind her.

"Well, you'll have to make up for it." He walked over to his motorbike, where Sam was waiting, and whistled through his teeth. "'S a nice make."

"Harley?" Barton asked from the sidelines, and Eva gave him a disgusted look.

"Harley Davidsons are for old men trying to compensate for their… something," she told him, and Vision laughed. "I refuse to ride one."

"No need to censor yourself for the cameras."

"I was actually doing it for the grandpa," she replied with a grin, jerking a thumb over her shoulder at a frowning Captain.

"Pretty confident for a loser," Sam called back, who had been a supportive boyfriend and bet twenty bucks on Steve winning.

"Look," said Eva, pulling on her helmet, "big muscles and the Frisbee of Death are all very well and good when you got both feet on the ground, but here his weight's gonna be a serious disadvantage. Plus, I raced all the time back in Austin."

"Only kind of illegally?" Steve asked, and she stuck her tongue out at him.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Romanoff, who was acting as referee, announced, "the race is about to begin, so could all spectators please vacate the strip."

"Good luck," Vision said, "and don't do anything stupid."

"Spoilsport." She hugged him quickly and he went and stood between Wanda and Hawkeye, Rhodes being stood down the other end with a laser pointer should they finish neck-and-neck. As a guard ran forward to hand Natasha a flag, Eva snapped down her helmet, swung a leg over the bike, kicked up its stand and switched on the ignition. Rogers was right, it was a good bike, and its motor sounded like the snarl of an animal beneath her legs. It was that feeling of riding a beast, of harnessing a thing that should have been uncontrollable, that had made her fall in love with racing bikes, since it appealed to the reckless side of her that had been less and less indulged recently. But now, her heart was thumping and she was ready to race a superhuman.

As the sun reached its peak, Romanoff assumed her position in the space between the bikes. "Alright, hotheads," she said with a wicked grin, "on your marks… get set… _go!_ "

Her last word was swallowed by the roar of the twin engines as the two of them tore off down the mile-long strip, Steve just pulling ahead- Eva had never been good off the line. But Steve was used to WWII Harleys and Indians as well as more recent Ridley cycles which were all automatic, and Eva had learnt on a manual like the one she was riding, which meant that her better control over its engine combined with her lighter frame led to her catching up with him before they were a quarter of the way down.

A quick glance to the side and she saw Steve was glaring straight ahead with his jaw set; all his bravado earlier had been false, he was having to put all his effort into keeping level with her. She allowed herself a grin beneath her helmet and turned back to looking straight ahead, and slowly but surely her front wheel inched ahead of his.

"Eat dicks, America!" she yelled, her voice muted by the noise as she pulled ahead with her heart pounding in her chest so hard it shook her leathers. She was a good twenty feet in the lead now, the finish line was in sight and her ego overtook her as she reared up onto her back wheel, whooping with joy as she crossed it first. First! She beat Captain America, _again_! The trick was just to only challenge him at what he _thought_ he was good at, and make sure it was an activity which wasn't benefitted by having shoulders the size of basketballs.

She brought the bike round in a few donuts, then pulled up alongside Steve, who was shaking his head as he killed his engine. "Hey, sexy."

"Good game, Kresk," he said with admirable valour, and held out a gloved hand. She went to shake it but pulled her hand back at the last minute, pressing her thumb to her nose and wiggling her fingers in the air. "Hilarious. Well, on the plus side at least Sam owes Vision twenty bucks now."

"You smell that?" Eva said delightedly, pulling off her helmet and ruffling her hair.

"Gas fumes?"

"Glory," she corrected him, " _victory_. Did V really bet on me?"

"Yep."

"Sweet."

"Dunno why you're so surprised," Steve grinned, "why wouldn't he?"

"Eh," she shrugged, "I'm not used to people believing in me, is all."

"Well that's upsetting," Steve said, and held out his hand. This time she actually took it, but instead of shaking he used it to pull her into a crushing, sweaty hug. "Congratulations on winning, Eva Kresk. Knew you could do it."

She looked up at him, eyes screwed up both against the sun and in suspicion. "Why did you agree to it, then?"

"Because you needed the morale boost," he said, letting her go. "You're damn good at a lot of things, kid. Don't forget that."

"Stop getting all philosophical on me, old man," she said as she blushed, and Steve laughed.

 **A/N this chapter is something I have been dying to write for ages. We've pretty much exhausted the pool of things Eva is good at now, though. Coffee, gardening, drinking, nihilist humour, pool, bikes. She's actually very bad at ukulele. Nobody mentions it, though. They're too kind.**


	71. Chapter 71

"I mean… I'm just normal," Eva struggled to explain to the interviewer sat behind the camera. "Like, I have a cat and a job and another job to make ends meet, because I live in the most expensive city in the country and I'm also drowning in college fee debts, and I like scary movies and classical music and stuff. I'm nothing special, really. It's my friends that are weird as shit," she added, and laughed.

"How did this happen?" the interviewer asked.

"I got the wrong job, working at an overpriced coffee shop round the corner from Stark Tower, and unfortunately I'm the only person who can make espresso the way Iron Man likes. I guess most people would've freaked out with the customers I got, but I was never very impressed with superheroes. All that mattered to me was whether they're a jerk to serving staff, and if they tipped big."

"What changed that led to you working here?"

"Vision. I… owe that guy my life, I think." She stared down at her fingers, and picked off her nail varnish as she talked. "He's like… every so often, you come across someone and they just bring this light into your life, when you didn't even realize it was dark. For most people it's like, a boyfriend or girlfriend or whatever, but I got a friend, a best friend, and that's what I needed. And, god, I was so lucky - for some insane reason, he liked _me_!" She laughed. "Vision was the first person ever to like me for me, to - to be interested in what I have to say, who thought that I _mattered_.

"And that's all I needed, really. It's what I needed to agree to going on a date with the one and only Sam Wilson, and what I needed to get through college, and see my first commission all the way through to the end, and stop being pissed off with these larger-than-life superheroes coming through my shop door and actually, like, get to know them instead. And I still don't entirely believe that they like me, that these world-saving weirdos _like_ me, but they're fun to be around and I believe them just enough to think that maybe I am worth something after all.

"And, uh, I'm a damn good gardener, so they offered me a job here and it's got really great health insurance, which is good because, I shit you not, I have been _shot_ for those people."

"Can you tell us anymore about that?"

"I've kind of half-helped unofficially with some-" she faltered as she noticed Hill, who was stood behind the interviewer, shaking her head. "Yeah, I don't think I'm allowed to tell you about that. Which is funny, because I always get really pissed off when they don't tell _me_ stuff. That okay to say?" she asked Hill, who gave her a thumbs-up.

"Thanks, Miss Kresk. You can go now." The interviewer sounded somewhat disappointed that Eva had, on the whole, been rather positive about everything.

"Look – they're jackasses. _All_ of them. Complete douche canoes, but they're useful to have around. Sometimes. When they're not making a mess of things. Okay, I'm done now. Bye." She stood up a little awkwardly and left the room, pausing outside the door to the next interviewee.

"Ready for your five minutes of fame, Pete?"

"Bog off."

"Hollywood's calling," she said with a sunny smile.

"I hate you."

"Oh, Pete. The feeling's mutual."

 **A/N UK's earlier release date means it's only eleven days until I'm going to see Civil War! But worry not my buddy pals, there will be no spoilery chapters until at least a week after the US release date and when there is, I will notify you in the chapter title. I'm kinda conflicted because** ** _ethically_** **I agree that superheroes should be regulated and I trust the Vision's good judgement enough to know that whichever side he's on is probably the more morally right one, but on the other hand I am very attracted to Bucky Barnes, but on the OTHER other hand (third hand or first hand?) I know, I just KNOW that I'm gonna fancy T'Challa. I can already feel it happening.**


	72. Chapter 72: Scientists Vol 2

Eva knocked the door to the HQ labs open with a leather-clad hip and carried the tray of drinks towards the sound of voices. A couple of lab assistants swarmed forwards and claimed theirs as she went, but there were still three left on the tray by the time she reached the heart of the department.

"Morning, doctors," she said with relief, "nice to see Erik's decided to wear pants today."

"Against my better judgement," he mumbled, as a pretty blonde woman with a slight limp moved forwards to take the drinks. "Irene, sweetheart, that isn't your job," he told her as she handed one to him and one to Dr Cho, who took the espresso gratefully and downed it in one. Working with Dr Selvig could be a very exhausting experience.

"My job is to assist you, Erik," Irene replied in a slightly accented voice, "which includes holding your drink for you."

Selvig tutted and sipped at his cup. "Wonderful as always, Miss Kresk."

"Cheers, doctor. How's science?"

"Science is good!" he said triumphantly, "science is excellent, in fact. Irene, where's my pen?"

"Behind your ear, Erik."

"Ah, so it is. I don't know where I'd be without you," he muttered, now checking his pockets for something. Cho and Eva exchanged slightly amused glances as Irene handed Selvig a notepad. "Aha! Thank you."

"You are very welcome, Erik," Irene smiled, finally managing to retrieve her own paper cup of tea. "Thank you."

"No problem, honey," Eva said as she snooped at the holograms contained within the lab. "Watcha sciencing today, then?"

"Thermonuclear and bio-organic energy sources," Cho told her, as if she expected Eva to understand what that meant. "Everything's been pretty quiet on the world-saving front recently, so we're using our resources to actually do some good."

"I like you," said Eva, "we share the same pessimism when it comes to superheroes."

"Makes you wonder how we ended up here, doesn't it?"

"Clearly, Destiny has a terrible sense of humor."

"Ah- ah!" Selvig waved a finger in their direction. "No talk of anything even _remotely_ supernatural in my workspace, please. I have enough of that with Jane."

"Message received," Eva grinned as Irene handed over the money. "Have fun with science, ladies and gentlemen."

"Have fun with your trees, Miss Kresk."

"Thank you, Erik."

 **A/N if you want to know more about Irene (which you should do, because she's super-cute if I do say so myself) and why she walks with a limp, I'd recommend reading chapters three to six of The Civilian Files. The same goes for if you want to see how dark/grim my writing can get. Short answer: not insignificantly. Also, did you know that Paul Bettany (aka Jarvision himself) named one of his kids after the guy who plays Selvig? HOW CUTE IS THAT.**

 **Also, for all you Evasion shippers, platonic or otherwise, I just found the song Texas by Magic Man and it worked so well for their relationship that I genuinely had to check the release date to make sure that Magic Man isn't some humungous nerd who writes great songs about mediocre fanfiction. Anyway... go listen. It even has her name in it, which is literally the most amazing coincidence I have ever witnessed.**


	73. Chapter 73

"Eva Kresk," Sam said solemnly from his position on one knee, "will you do me the honor of being my hot date to the big-ass function Stark's holding to celebrate a film all about my amazing life?"

"Jesus Christ, don't scare me like that!" she snapped, as he scrambled up with a grin. "And yes, Sam Wilson, I would love to."

"Good, 'cos I bought you a dress."

"What, really?"

"Can't let you go in overalls, can I? It's your birthday present, before you complain about charity." he asked, kissing her forehead. "I gotta go see Rogers for a thing, but I left it in your apartment. Get Vision to walk you out to the road, it's dark out and he just clocked off anyway."

"Okay. Love you."

"Understandable. See you later."

She found Vision in the rec room, playing pool with Hawkeye (and winning by far) as Wanda watched. "Can you walk me back to my bike?" she asked, "I parked it outside. Laser foreheads are useful in case someone tries to mug me on the road."

"Gladly." He handed his cue to Wanda. "Please don't win by too much. We don't want to embarrass him."

"For the record," Clint said, "I liked the old Avengers better. People were nice to me."

Eva laughed. "Night, Clint. Wanda."

"Coffee girl," he replied with a salute, as Wanda waved.

"Sam asked me to go to the Stark function with him," she said as they walked out of HQ. "Are you going?"

"I assume so. Agent Romanoff was a little reluctant at first, since she's used to keeping a low profile, but the captain talked her round. The only excuse we have now is if we're on a mission."

"You hoping for an excuse, then?" she asked him. "Don't lie, I know you too well."

"It's… not really my forte," he admitted, "when I was created, I imagined many things would happen to me in my life. Society events was not something I envisaged."

"It's for a documentary, which is allowed. And besides, you can just hide behind Stark, he loves it."

"As I am well aware."

"You're adorable," she said, "like it or not, Oompa-Loompa, you're a celebrity. People dress up as you and talk about you and write really weird fanfiction about you and that, my friend, is the prize and price of fame." He didn't look particularly comforted by that. "Look, there's like… a black carpet they call it, behind the red one, for people who don't want all the cameras and stuff. I'll stay on that with you for as long as humanly possible, deal?"

"Deal," he agreed, shaking her hand. "Oh, and Wanda was the lucky one who gets out of it. I forgot about that."

"How?"

"She's still only just lost her brother," he explained, "and she's grieving."

"She guilt-tripped Rogers," Eva said, and Vision nodded. "Smart lady."

"Indeed. Changing the subject somewhat, are you looking forward to your birthday?"

It was on the 19th March, two weeks from now and one week after the function. "Eh. Please don't let Sam do, like, a surprise party or anything. I like spending my birthdays on my own."

"Are you sure?"

She nodded firmly. "I get drunk and watch old noir films with Rachel Carson, and company would just ruin that. No offense."

"None taken. Everyone is allowed to be solitary, once in a while. I _am_ getting you a gift, though," he said, and she groaned.

"Nooooo, I feel really weird when people do that and I don't do anything back," she wailed, "just… text me or something, that'll be fine."

"Eva," he said, "I love you and you are not getting away that lightly."

She huffed. "Jerk."

"Scrooge."

She pulled a face at him. "God, everyone's so nice to me. I hate it."

"Well, life is hard as you are wont to point out," Vision said, clearly quite amused at her negativity.

"Why do I get the impression you're mocking me?"

"I have absolutely no idea."

She said goodbye to Vision at the main entrance to her apartment block and whistled the score of _Sleeping Beauty_ as she rode the elevator up, to be greeted by the yowling of Rachel Carson just behind her front door.

"Meow yourself," she told her as she unlocked it and stepped inside, closing it behind her and immediately making a beeline for her closet, before doubling back and grabbing her watering can.

Once the plants had been tended she crawled over her bed and opened the wardrobe door, then took down the unfamiliar bag that had been inexpertly shoved onto the top shelf. She hissed at the designer name on the side of its container and dropped it onto her unmade bed, shoving the cat off of it so she didn't get tabby-patterned fur over the dress, and pulled it out.

Eva wasn't good at fashion, but she loved this. It was black, but covered with embroidered flowers, light and simple and just alternative enough for her tastes (Eva had more in common than the coffee shop hipsters than she would care to admit), and it was of course the perfect dress for a gardener. It was also vastly more successful than what Sam had got her for Christmas.

"I ain't gonna be able to wear Doc Martens with this, Rachel Carson," she said in awe as she held it out in front of her. "This masterpiece merits at _least_ , like, a clean pair of trainers."

"Meow."

"You go anywhere near this with your claws and I'm taking you to the pound," she threatened, before folding it back up with great care and stowing the bag in a safer part of her room. "It's probably worth more than all my organs combined," she said reverently, "oh, wow. I am not good enough for this dress. Wow."

Over the next few days, she kept pulling it out and staring at it, as though to check it were still real. Eva was not used to having nice things, so she had to sit and cry for a bit about the dress before shutting Rachel Carson safely away in the bathroom and twirling around the room in it for a bit.

With the curtains closed and the door locked, obviously. Nobody could ever know.

 **A/N did you notice my very subtle re-establishment of timeline in this fic? Subtle, huh? Not like I just flat out shoehorned the date into it, oh no. I chose it for Eva's birthday because (on non leap-year years), it's the first day of Spring, which is a good birthday for a gardener to have.**


	74. Chapter 74

"I hate you," Eva told Romanoff, who was looking sleek and unfairly comfortable in her fancy clothes. "This is so unfair. These shoes are like instruments of torture, I dunno how Pepper manages them." The CEO had been kind enough to lend Eva some footwear for the premiere, which Eva was now on her way to in the back of a sleek black car with the Avenger, who wore black and rubies and looked ridiculously good in them.

"Fight through the pain, Texas," she said with a smile.

She huffed. "If by fight you mean constant moaning, then yeah, I'll fight. If you mean hiding behind my gangly maroon friend, I can do that too. And if you mean getting completely smashed, then I'm all too happy to oblige." Her hand was resting lightly on the door handle, should she need to jump out. "Have I mentioned I hate being in cars?"

"Yep."

"Hmph. Who else is going to this thing, anyway?"

"According to Rhodey, Stan Lee might turn up at one point," Romanoff told her, leaving a blood-coloured lipstick stain on the side of her champagne glass. "So I think he might have a fanboy moment. The guy's his hero."

"Well, that's adorable."

"Uh-huh. Even Barton's coming out of retirement for tonight."

Eva blinked. "Wait, what? He's retired? But he's at the HQ every other weekend!"

"In an entirely unofficial capacity," Natasha grinned, "besides, Laura's got used to getting him out from under her toes. He's just visiting friends, keeping an eye on Maximoff."

"But he's in meetings!"

"Only as an honorary consultant. Like Tony, but without the ego." The redhead's phone bleeped, and she pulled it out of her purse and swore in thick Russian as she read the message. "Well, that sucks."

"What?" Eva said at once, "what is it?"

"The Vision and Wilson have both been called out on a last minute thing," she told them, and Eva buried her face in her hands and wailed. "Hey. At least the rest of us are still there, and Stark."

"Whoop-dee-doo," Eva muttered, lifting her face before her make-up smudged against her fingers. "My favorite person in the whole wide world."

"Your hatred of him is inspiring."

"Cheers," Eva scowled as the car pulled up behind a screen that hid the flashing lights of countless photographers. Above them the Avengers Tower, well, towered over the surrounding buildings, dominating the skyline. "I hate this! I hate people! I can't _mingle!_ "

"Come on," Natasha smiled, "it'll be fun."

"Says the woman who looks like a supermodel and has been in literal wars. Anything's gonna be a walk in the park for you at this point." She took a deep breath. "I need the bathroom, I'll be out on the hangman's block in ten. I promise."

"One second later and I'm coming to find you, coffee girl."

"Yeah, yeah." She scrambled out of the car before the Black Widow could taze her or anything and slipped into the side entrance to the tower, and down a corridor which was wonderfully dark and empty. She had been to the place to deliver coffee a few times before, and after a few false turns found her way into the guest bathroom, pulling out her phone and texting Sam and Vision to tell them she wasn't very happy about being abandoned. She dropped her phone next to the sink, took a deep breath, and looked up into the reflection in the mirror.

There was a woman stood behind her with a gun.

" _Crap_!" Eva lunged for her phone but before she could, something connected with the back of her skull and her head snapped forward into the mirror. The last thing she heard was the sound of the silvered glass shattering, before she slumped out cold onto the marble counter.

 **A/N you're god damn right that's the Coffee Run Stan Lee cameo, it wouldn't be a proper Marvel thing otherwise, would it? Took me 74 chapters, but I got there. And in my headcanon Marvel comics still exist in the MCU, only they're just the X-Men and stuff. And Stan Lee has... *counts number of MCU films* about a dozen identical twins. Oh, and Eva's in trouble again. CLIFFHANGER. Additionally - GUESS WHO'S GOING TO SEE CIVIL WAR TOMORROW THAT'S RIGHT IT'S ME OH YEAH**


	75. Chapter 75

_"Life is tough, my darling, but so are you."_

 _\- Stephanie Bennett Henry_

There was something dried over Eva's face, gluing her eyelids together. _What…_ she thought dully, trying to figure out what had happened. She had been at that damn gala function thing… no, it hadn't started yet, she had gone to the bathroom to fix her make-up - no, it had been to avoid going out there for as long as… some douchebag with a gun had _attacked_ her!

She tried to lift her head, which had been lolling forward onto her chest, but the movement sent nausea tidal-waving through her. Someone had tied her to a chair, by the feel of it- her hands were bound behind her, the back of the chair digging painfully into her underarms.

She realized with a jolt that the thing on her face was blood, _her_ blood. Somebody had kidnapped her, tied her to a chair, and hadn't even had the good grace to take off her incredibly expensive, incredibly painful shoes. With a great deal of effort, Eva managed to get her eyelids open (quite likely tearing half her lashes out in the process) and saw that she was in a dark and gloomy warehouse, the sounds of drifting traffic coming in through the walls.

"Help!" she screamed. "SOMEBODY HELP ME!"

"Nobody can hear you," a female voice said, and her accoster walked into view.

"If you're HYDRA," she said weakly, "sod off. I'm only a gardener anyway, so unless you want all their shrubs to die I am of absolutely no strategic value whatsoever."

"Shut up."

"No." Eva winced as she rolled her head back in order to get a better look at the woman. She was unassuming, neither particularly pretty nor ugly, average build, no weird hair or tattoos to set her apart from the crowd. "So. I assume this is something to do with the Earth's Mightiest Heroes."

"I wouldn't exactly call them that," said the woman, "but yeah. I'm gonna make them pay."

"For… what, exactly?" Eva asked, trying to kickstart her sluggish brain as she did. She didn't know how long she had been there, and she couldn't rely on the idea of her being rescued to save her. No, she had to think her way out of this one herself.

"For _everything_!"

"Right," Eva replied as she wriggled her hands around in their bonds, making no difference to their tautness whatsoever. "And why do you need me to do that, exactly?"

"Because you're the weak link."

"I'm not actually one of them, you know. I just make the drinks and plant the flowers."

"So you're the easiest person to kill," the woman retorted, and Eva rolled her eyes.

"You're not gonna kill me," she said, hopefully sounding a lot more confident than she felt. "You ever actually killed _anyone_ before? That stuff takes a lot of balls."

"Yeah." She chambered the next round in her gun. "Four whole people."

"That wasn't the answer I was expecting," Eva said under her breath. "What are you then, SHIELD?"

"That's none of your business."

"What does it matter? I'm gonna die anyway," she pointed out, "you might as well tell me your evil plan or whatever it is the kids are up to these days." She needed to get her hands free- that was what was freaking her out the most, the fact that she was powerless. If she could use her hands, then she might be able to do something. "My name's Eva, by the way. Eva Kresk. Hi."

"I thought you said I wasn't going to kill you?" the woman asked with a small smirk, and Eva tutted.

"Nobody likes a smartass. So you're obviously some kinda secret service, right? You look like it, you act like it. And you're not HYDRA, so you're probably not SHIELD either- everyone in SHIELD who hates the Avengers joins HYDRA, it's like the default option. And aren't they dead? I'm sure SHIELD's dead. I can't remember… I think I have concussion, by the way. Everything's spinning."

"Do you expect me to care?" the woman asked, and Eva threw up, just managing to throw her head forward enough to avoid her dress. Her lovely, designer dress, now stained with blood.

"I thought you might want to get me a bucket," Eva said in a hoarse voice, and spat out a mouthful of bile. "Urgh. Too late now." The movement had caused her to kick her feet up, and in the distraction she had grabbed the heel of her shoes with the tips of her fingers and managed to snap it off. "So," she began, fumbling with it as she tried to stick it between the rope holding her hands together, "I'm gonna hazard a guess at CIA." She repressed another gag. "Nope, I'm fine, I'm good. Oh, bloody hell."

"You know _nothing_ about me," she snarled. There was a manic glint in the woman's eyes. She had the look of a desperate person about her.

"So I _am_ right. Look, lady, either get it over with and put a bullet in my head or tell me what the hell's going on, because I really don't have the energy for this."

"You- you _want_ me to kill you?" the woman asked, confusion just beginning to edge in her voice. "What happened to trying to keep me talking so you could buy more time?"

Eva laughed shortly. "You noticed that, then. Look, my sense of self-preservation really ain't the strongest. I'm just coming out of a years-long stint of mild alcoholism, and I have a hell of a tendency to self-destruct. It's one of my best features, actually. It goes hand in hand with my pyromania. I think I'm babbling. Am I babbling? I'm babbling."

"Shut up," the woman snapped. "Do you have any idea how much your precious superheroes have wrecked this planet? We were fine before they came along and escalated everything, and now look at us! Aliens, malevolent AI, genetically modifying kids – it's sick, and it all happened because of them! They've only fixed what they broke in the first place."

"So?"

"So what?"

"So why are you going to kill me?"

"To make them pay," she said quietly, and Eva narrowed her eyes.

"This is personal, isn't it? I thought you were maybe one of those Watchdog people, but you're not. That's why you chose me and not one of the official super people, you want to hit them as close to home as you can get." She flinched as the woman marched forward and pressed her gun into the cut on her forehead, and shrieked in pain. "Sorry, sorry, oh god please stop that hurts _get it off-_ "

"Stop begging," the woman told her with contempt, and removed the nozzle from Eva's face. She sagged forward and let out one of the sobs that had been building up inside of her.

"I never asked for this either," she cried, "I've been shot because of those bastards! Just let me go, please. You don't have to do this." She had dropped the stiletto heel without managing to sever the rope with it when the woman had pressed the gun to her head; there was no hope for her now. She wasn't a superhero. She wasn't brave or strong or clever, she was just a girl who had got herself into a terrible, awful mess. "Please."

"I can't." The woman's voice was shaking too. "I can't, I'm sorry. I've come too far." She sank to her knees in front of Eva, just avoiding the puddle of sick. "I've lost everything because of this. I kill you and then it's over, and I can stop with… with _everything_."

Eva bit her lip and swallowed down the lump in her throat. "Tell me what happened."

"No… why the _hell…_ would I do that?"

"Please. If you're gonna kill me, I at least deserve to know why."

The woman inhaled, slowly, and closed her eyes. "Okay.

"You're right, I'm a CIA agent. A lot of people don't know this, but SHIELD and the local cops weren't the only forces at the Battle of New York- we were there too, my partner and me included. I was even there to hear about the nuke they were going to drop on the city, just to try and clear up the carnage they had made. It was horrible, we didn't have a clue what we were doing and our guns didn't do shit against the aliens- but we fought anyway, some of us to the death. Including my partner.

"He was the only thing I had, and because of the Avengers they tore him away from me and then they were hailed as- as _heroes._ My partner had two guests at his funeral, me and the vicar. SHIELD never even knew we were there.

"I got fired because of my PTSD," she said, and snorted with humourless laughter. "They really did tear my life apart. I tried to sue Stark Industries, just for enough that I could pay my way for a year or so until I got another job, but I didn't get a penny. They said I was lucky enough to be alive, and kicked me back out onto the street.

"I need them to know. I need them to know the hurt of losing someone important, and how everything else falls apart because of it. Thaddeus Ross is right, but his hands are tied. He needs a stray bullet. Hopefully, you dying might even mean they break up completely, and we're free of them for good. They're false idols, Kresk. We need to be rid of them."

"Your partner," Eva managed to say, "he-"

"Wasn't just my partner." The woman blinked back tears. "He was my brother."

"Oh, Jesus," Eva murmured, "I'm so sorry."

"Don't. Don't make me like you, Kresk. Oh, Christ. Why did you have to tell me your name?"

"Please," Eva begged, "look at me. I _know_ they're called the Avengers, but revenge never actually solves anything- it doesn't even make you feel better. They're not some omnipotent gods who came and ruined our lives, however they might act. They're just people. I never liked them much, and yeah, they make as much damage as they solve. But they're good people, and they're my friends. They don't deserve to suffer like you did, nobody does."

"No. They're not your friends, they aren't _like_ us-"

"Trust me," said Eva, "they really are. I've seen them all before they've had caffeine, and they really are just like the rest of us. They might look different, they might have fancy suits and strange faces and weird abilities, but they're people to the bone and all they want to do is help. Just like you do."

"What about you?"

"I just want to make it through the day," she smiled, and the woman laughed through her tears.

"What happened to your self-destructive tendencies?"

"Oh, they're still there. But it's not the bad stuff in us that defines who we are, not unless we let it."

"So what does?"

"Kindness," she said, "love. Bad jokes, and just… humanity, really. We really are an amazing creation, you know. A friend once told me, the chances of one person being alive now is something like one in three million. We shouldn't be alive, but we are, and it's not because of these big world-saving shows of heroism, it's because of… kindness."

They were both crying now, heavy desperate tears of two people who didn't know what was going to happen next. "I don't know what to do," the woman whispered.

"What's your name?"

"… Anna."

"Anna," Eva said gently, "put down the gun, please. It'll help, I promise." The lump of lethal metal splashed into the sick puddle. "You can untie me too, if you want."

"What will you do if I do?"

"You'll have to wait and see. Look at me, I'm hardly about to overpower you."

Anna hesitated, then pulled a flipknife out of her pocket and cut the ropes tying Eva to the chair. The gardener waited until the weapon had been put away, then wrapped her tattooed arms around Anna. "You're okay," she whispered as the woman sobbed onto her shoulder, "it's okay, you're okay, everything's okay…"

"I'm so sorry…"

"Don't be, sweetheart. It's not your fault."

%

Eva was sat on the edge of the hospital bed, nibbling her lip as Dr Cho stitched up the cut on her head, when Vision came in.

"Hey," she said, as Cho stepped back after tying off the silk. He wordlessly embraced her and she buried her face in his chest, curling her fingers into the impossibly fine fabric of his cloak. "Where's Sam?"

"About an hour behind me. Agent Romanoff told me what happened - are you alright?"

"Kinda," she mumbled as he released her and examined her forehead, "where's Anna?"

"Safe. I knew you would ask, so I checked myself."

"She should talk to Sam," she said, "he does the PTSD counselling and stuff. He's good at that." She stumbled as another burst of dizziness emanated out of her head, and Vision set her down on the bed.

"You saved both your own life and hers, Eva. That was… quite something."

She slid down so that she was lying with her head in his lap. "I just told her the truth. I understood her a little, I think. I understood that feeling, of there not being any point in being alive. I used to be like that, before…"

"Before what?"

"You. You kind of saved my life, V." She smiled up at him, her view wavering as fresh tears rose in her eyes. "That's quite something."

He laughed softly. "It was my honour."

"I'm really kinda lucky to have you, y'know. I'm just some human, and you're so much more than that."

"Oh," he said with a smile, "Eva Kresk, no. There's no such thing as more than human; I still don't understand how the universe managed to fit an infinity into each and every one of you, but I'm rather glad it did."

She grinned, biting down on her bottom lip. "We're alright," she admitted.

"I'm so very proud of you, Eva."

"Why? Because I saved someone's life?"

"No. Well, partially, but… a year ago, had I said something like that about you, I would have been immediately contradicted. 'We're alright' happens to be a colossal improvement upon that." He kissed her forehead. "Get some sleep."

"You're not the boss of me, Oompa Loompa."

"I never presumed I was, Eva. Not one single time."

 **A/N behold! The longest Coffee Run chapter there ever has been, and most likely will ever be! I feel like this is the climax, the part that the rest of the fic has been building up to. Did you like it? Did you feel like you needed more angst on top of all the pain you're gonna get from Civil War? Did you think, upon reading chapter one, that we would end up here? I certainly didn't.**

 **SiriusLOCKED's spoiler-free review of Civil War: HOLY MOTHER OF GOD. Best character was Ant-Man, but Vision and Bucky (my favs) were AMAZING in it. I'm updating this on the WiFi of the pub five minutes' walk from the cinema, in which I will shortly be going to see it again. Super-hyped!**


	76. Chapter 76

"You got a sweet forehead scar," Sam informed her, running his thumb along the neatly sewn line just above and between her eyebrows. "Gotta go defeat Lord Voldemort, now."

"Hilarious," she sighed, but she was grinning. "How's Anna?"

"Pretty messed up," he admitted, as she flopped back down next to him on her apartment couch. The couch was a big step up for her, actually, it having replaced her sole armchair. She felt a lot more like an adult, being able to stretch her legs out, and now there was space for friends and datefriends and, most importantly, Rachel Carson. "But she'll learn to deal with it. She's tough."

"Shouldn't you be telling me any of this? Patient confidentiality, and all that?"

"You're a special case," he said, grabbing Rachel Carson and dropping her back on the floor as she tried to claim his lap for the fourth time that hour. "How many near-death situations have you been in now?"

"I don't want to think about it," she wailed. "I'm cursed, Wilson, that's the only explanation. I'm freaking cursed." He laughed at her, and she broke character to smile for a moment. "But really, Sam- this is what my life's gonna be like, isn't it? I might just be a civilian, but being so close to you lot, it's… dangerous. And I'm kinda scared, sometimes, that the next time something like this happens I won't be so lucky."

Sam nodded. "I know, baby. I'm sorry it has to be like this."

"It's not your fault," she said, "it's just- things aren't even that bad right now, right? The next time something like, like Ultron or Loki or whatever happens again, I'm not sure if I'll be able to hack it. I might just have to-" she gulped, "cut myself loose. Just a little."

"I can see where this is going," Sam said, grabbing her knees and pulling her round to face him.

"Please don't hate me."

"Of course I don't, coffee girl! I was about to say the same thing." He pushed a strand of hair behind her ear- she had dyed it yesterday, and it was now an inky black. "I don't know if you noticed, but I actually kind of like you a lot. But I like you best when you're safe, and if safe means you not dating the most badass Avenger there is, then we're both tough. We'll ride it out."

"Ignoring the badass bit," she said, "I agree completely. But not yet, though. Nothing bad's happening yet, I still get to keep you for a while longer- and we're always friends, right? No matter what?"

"Try and get rid of me." He kissed her forehead. "I really do like you, ya know."

"I should hope so, Avenger Wilson. I should very much hope so."

 **A/N teeny-tiny chapter but an important author's note about where this fic is going. Firstly, I'll let you know when Civil War spoilers start at the beginning of the chapter, so don't worry about that. Secondly, due to a variety of things including the ambiguous nature of Civil War's ending, the fact that I'm going to university in the autumn, and just the general tone and plot of this fic, once the CW arc's wrapped up there will no longer be weekly updates. Instead, you'll probably get two- or three-chapter arcs whenever I come up with them, and of course a chapter for every new film/character etc (I reckon I'm going to wait until Spidey & Panther films actually come out, but you never know). I love this fic a lot and I'm glad so many of you do too, but this update schedule is insane and I don't ever want to be putting out bad chapters just to keep up with it. Finding Bucky will most likely wrap up Acts II & III before Infinity Wars comes out, and if you want regular updates then Of Mice and Mischief Makers is at least fortnightly and The Civilian Files is at the beginning of every month. And, of course, OCs from respective fics will crop up in others now and then.**

 **So to recap - at least weekly updates until after the Civil War stuff (which is about another two months' worth) and then much more sporadic, while the rest of the Civilian Chronicles will have a more regular update schedule. And if you want to keep up with Eva, you can follow her tumblr (arbxrea) or twitter (evakresk). Or, indeed, follow me on twitter at thenarr4tor if you enjoy a) swearing, b) bitterness and c) bad jokes. And I love you. You'd better love me too. No takebacks.**


	77. Chapter 77

"Eva. _Eva._ "

She snorted and jerked her head up, then realized she was lying face-down in a bed that wasn't her own. "Uh?" she said, opening one eye. "Oh. Hey, V. What am I doing in your room?"

"I found you passed out in your shed," he told her, "I thought you might be more comfortable in here."

"Ah," she said, scratching the birds' nest that was her hair, "right."

The inarguably greatest perk of Eva's job was that she now officially had her own gardener's shed at the HQ. It had two lawnmowers, more equipment than she knew the names for, a secret stash of moonshine liquor and her Leslie Knope poster on the wall, and ever since she had been hired it had practically become her second home. She hazily recalled working late last night on some soil samples in an attempt to see why some of her plants weren't growing, and then remembered that she had run out of energy drink. "Whoops."

"Sleep is necessary, you know," he told her as she sat up, "I would recommend it. Does wonders for the system."

"Stop mothering me," she said, "and I, uh, I mean… someone who wasn't me kind of drooled on your sheets a bit while they were asleep. I'm sure they're very sorry about it."

"Then I'm sure they can run them down to the laundry later," Vision said with a smile, and she narrowed her eyes at him.

"Well, there goes the last of your butler-ness. Where's everyone else?"

"Either out on a mission or having an argument over the politics of our new Secretary of State, I think."

"That Ross guy?" Eva asked, popping her joints. "He's not the most popular person round here at the moment, I've noticed."

"He divides opinions most spectacularly," Vision agreed. "I ought to go. But before I get to ask… how was your birthday?"

Her face cracked into a massive grin. "You, sir," she said, "are a genius."

On the morning of March 19th, Eva had received a message telling her to go onto the roof of her apartment block. It had been transformed into a tiny skyline allotment as part of a city scheme to improve awareness and sustainability, and someone had anonymously recommended her block to be a part of it. Eva had spent the day teaching the kids from the floor below her how to plant vegetable seeds, and she had never been happier in her life. It had been a fairly easy guess to make regarding who the anonymous recommender actually was. The Avengers had been very busy as of late, meaning she had not seen him for weeks, but there was a distinct Vision-like touch to the act. Only he would think of something like this.

"I have absolutely no idea what you are talking about, Miss Kresk."

"Sure ya don't. But thank you, anyway. We're growing tomatoes."

"How very exciting."

"Was that _sarcasm,_ Vision?"

"I could not say, Eva. If you'll excuse me, I am needed elsewhere."

"You're a terrible liar," she called after him, and he waved as he closed the door behind him.

 **A/N holy moly y'all 750 followers**


	78. Chapter 78

Eva had slept over at the HQ. She was stood in front of the mirror in Sam's bathroom, trying to do her eyeliner, and waiting for her hand to stop shaking.

She had had a nightmare. It was reasonable, she figured – in the last half a year she had been shot _and_ kidnapped, and that latter thing had unnerved her more than she cared to admit. It was… well, she wasn't sure _what_ it was. But the nightmares kept happening, and she didn't use public bathrooms anymore, and every so often she would flinch when someone approached her from behind.

And, occasionally, her hand shook. It liked to do it at inconvenient moments, like when she was about to be late for work and had already done half her make-up. Pursing her lips, Eva set down the eyeliner brush and clenched her tattooed fist. _Stop it,_ she told herself. _Don't be so stupid._

There was a soft knock on the door, and Sam walked in. "Hey," he said quietly, "you okay?"

"Yeah," she said, looking at his reflection in the mirror and wrapping her arms around herself. "Um… no. Not really."

"It's okay to not be over it, y'know."

She looked down. "This is what it's like all the time for you," she said, "isn't it? With the PTSD?"

"Yeah."

"Does it go away?" she asked, hopefully.

"Sometimes. Not always."

Of course; he was the expert at night terrors out of the two of them. "Thanks for being honest," she said. What else could she say? That she felt like a complete idiot for being so… so _weak,_ when she was surrounded by people who saved the world on a daily basis? When Sam had lost his wingman and just kept on going, while she kept crying whenever she thought about being tied up?

"You wanna talk about it?"

"Not really. At least, not when I'm running late."

"I'm here when you do," Sam said, and his phone bleeped. Upon checking it he swore under his breath. "Gotta go," he said, "emergency."

"'Course you do." She let him kiss the top of his head and watched him run off before turning back to her discarded eyeliner brush. "Right, asshole," she murmured to her reflection, "you're gonna sort yourself out and make yourself look presentable for an eight hour shift in that godforsaken coffee shop. Capisce? Good."

She really needed a coping technique for this stuff. Unfortunately, her usual fallback for when she felt crappy was to drink herself halfway to hell and set fire to the trash can, and sober pyromania just wasn't the same. _Just one drink,_ said a voice in the back of the head, _to make you sleep easier._ With each new nightmare, it was getting harder to ignore it. She probably should have told someone, but Vision and Sam both seemed to have more than enough of their own problems at the moment with the Accords, and Alvie was… well, Alvie.

 _I'll be fine,_ she told herself. It was probably a lie, but she felt all the better for saying it.

 **A/N so I didn't want to immediately brush off everything that happened to Eva but I didn't want the trauma to, like, take her over either, y'know? Because in my experience, when people deal with awful things the world doesn't grind to a halt for them, and they just have to struggle to keep up. I wanted Eva to deal with PTSD exactly how a twenty-two year old who still has to pay her rent would - that is to say, not very well. Also, this is the last chapter before we enter Civil War storyline, so prepare for spoilers next chapter.**


	79. Chapter 79 (Civil War SPOILERS)

**SPOILERS for Civil War from here on in, folks. You have been warned.**

"…We just thought that you would want to know. Mr Souza has informed us that the funeral will be on Friday, I can email you the details."

Eva stared unseeingly at the wall of the apartment. "Yes, please," she said, unaware of Rachel Carson bumping her head against her shins to get her attention. "Thank you telling me."

"It was no problem. We at the home were aware of the bond that you two had, and thought you would want to be told directly. My condolences, Miss Kresk."

Eva nodded, and hung up. There was a second or two of hanging silence, and then she flung her mobile against the wall with a scream. Rachel Carson bolted to the balcony and out to freedom with a yowl, and Eva sunk to her knees in her kitchen, shivering fingers going straight for the cupboard beneath the kitchen sink. Right at the back, hidden behind the fire bucket, a cheap and nasty bottle of vodka waited.

Peggy was dead. Nothing else mattered. The alcohol stung on its way down, making her eyes water, but she was crying anyway. She slumped back against the far wall, staring at the shattered remains of her phone, before curling up into a ball and screaming again, like a deer with its leg in a bear trap. Peggy was dead, and there was going to be a funeral on Friday. Mr Souza had wanted her to know. Peggy was dead. The superheroes were turning against each other, and Peggy was dead. She was alone with a bottle, and lovely, brave, good Peggy Carter with the stories and the accent and the unbendable pride was dead, and the world might as well have been over. She took another gulp of alcohol and sobbed, wrapping her arms around herself until they hurt like vices. She sat and wept until the world was salt water and grief.

"Eva?"

"Go away!"

"Eva, please." He sounded so calm. How dare he sound so calm?

"The door's locked!" she yelled, "go away!"

There was a pause, the soft shimmering noise that was unique to the action of someone going temporarily intangible, footsteps, and then Vision was kneeling in front of her. "You really thought a locked door was going to stop me? I am not leaving you," he told her, and she hugged the vodka bottle tighter to her chest.

"You know?" she asked, and shook her head. Of _course_ he knew. Why else would he be here? "She wasn't supposed to die! But now she is! She's dead, V!" She gasped for air and upended the bottle until her head spun. "And now I have to go to her god damn funeral and I don't want to, I don't want to go, but I _have_ to!"

"I'm sure they would understand if –"

"It doesn't matter what _they_ think! It's not fair! How come she has to die when I get to live and I'm not even worth anything!"

"Eva –"

"Don't!" She stormed away, unable to look at him. "Don't make excuses for me! It's a human thing, Vision. Don't even bother. How the hell would you understand?"

She slammed the door of her bedroom behind her and collapsed face down onto the bed.

 _What did you say that for, you idiot? Peggy would be ashamed._

Oh, if only her brain hadn't turned against her and whispered that little thought. Dropping the bottle, clear liquid spilling across the threadbare carpet, she ran out of her bedroom and met Vision in the centre of her apartment, flinging her arms around his neck and noticing how he didn't even hesitate before hugging her back.

"I didn't mean it," she whispered, "Vision, I didn't…"

"It's quite alright," he murmured. "Oh, Eva. I am so sorry."

She broke down onto his shoulder. Peggy was dead, and she was not, but her best friend was here with steady arms and a soft voice. That mattered.

%

She woke up in a nest of bedclothes and a state of hungoveredness. When she managed to get her head free, she saw Vision sat cross-legged at the foot of her bed, reading _Gulliver's Travels._ He looked up, gave her a small smile and nodded at the bedside table, where a crystal-cold glass of water was waiting. She drained half the glass, spilling it a little, and sat up.

"Are you awake?" he asked her, and she nodded.

"Vision, I –"

"Me first." He closed the book, turned to face her and gave her a serious look. "You are not worthless, Eva Kresk. You deserve to live. And the next time you feel the need to drink, you call me."

"I broke my phone," she mumbled.

"The apartment next door has a phone. The apartment across the floor has a phone. There is a payphone at the bottom of this block, and I know you know my number. No excuses." He held out his hand with the smallest finger extended. "Do we have a deal?"

She paused, then shook her hand free from her duvet and wrapped her pinky around his. "Deal."

"Excellent. And you were right, last night. I do not understand why you need to go to the funeral. Not if you are as upset as this."

"No! No, I need to go." And she needed to make him understand why, too. "I owe it to her. It's the same reason you came here to see if I was… it's a duty." She looked down at her extended arm, bare and pale except for the tattoos, which she counted now. Tree roots from her shoulder, spilling down to her elbow and interwoven with flowers. Below the joint were the circuit lines, all the way to her wrist, and on the back of her palm there was a flickering campfire, trapped in ink where it could not damage anything or set off her fire alarm. "ARBO" was spelt out across her fingers, one half of the Latin word for tree; "REUM" was on the other hand. They were as much a part of her as the blood that ran through her veins, and they had kept her alive like the drinking and the fire-setting had.

"You're really mad at me," she said quietly, "aren't you?"

"Just a little." His hand took hers; a uniform dark red, synthetic and perfect. "But no matter how many times you think you have failed, Eva, I am your friend, and I will be here for you. Did you love her?"

"Yeah." The pain would become bearable; she would learn not to cry, she knew. She would have to. "Steve'll be there. It's in London, he'll probably let me go if I ask. It's gonna be horrible. They always are, funerals. I had to go to a great-aunt's once, when I was a kid. Barely knew her. Only time I saw my mom cry, and then my dad yelled at me when I didn't, and then obviously I _did_ start crying, and I ran off, right in the middle of the ceremony. Everyone was staring. I got into so much trouble."

"You are smiling, Eva Kresk."

She hid her lower face with a pillow. "No, I'm not! _You're_ smiling!"

He laughed, and she dropped the pillow. "Thanks for not hating me."

"I could never manage such a thing. Now go and shower, Eva Kresk. You have a world to face and your worth to prove."

"No, I don't," she said, stumbling out of the bedsheets.

"Know your value, Eva. It is no small amount."

 **A/N *slides my last £20 note over to the Marvel execs* "this is for you if you renew Agent Carter on Netflix". Seriously, they could cancel the MCU movie line-up up to and including Infinity Wars, and I would be less upset than I was about Agent Carter. I JUST... I LOVE PEGGY CARTER SO MUCH. IN A PLATONIC WAY AND A GAY WAY. (I'm also trying to make this A/N funny because I am distinctly aware that this is a very sad chapter and I am sorry)**


	80. Chapter 80 (Civil War)

Eva stayed at the back of the church, in a plain black dress that she didn't like and did not fit, and listened to the sermon. Sam and Steve were up the front, but she would rather linger near the open door, with the cool outside air drifting in and making the sound of Peggy's pretty niece talking about her harder to hear. There had been a private jet, Stark-funded, that had taken them across the Atlantic – her, Steve, Sam, and Romanoff, who was stopping off on the way to Vienna for something political. There had been free champagne, which she had not drunk.

Suddenly, the funeral – which was precisely as painful as she had expected it to be – finished, and people were leaving. Sam gave her hand a small squeeze as he passed but left her in the church as he and the others left, Steve and Natasha lingering a little longer than the rest as they talked quietly in the middle of the central aisle. The woman gave her a small nod as she passed, and finally Eva made her way up to Steve, whose eyes were red.

"London's nice," she said. "Everyone sounds like my best friend."

He chuckled. "That the only reason you like it?"

"One of a few. Black doesn't suit you."

"I know," he replied, "I wear it more than I'd like. Thanks for coming."

Eva lifted a shoulder. "That's what you do for friends," she said. "How are you? I know everyone's a bit on edge at the moment, and then there's this…" she waved a hand around the church. "You don't have to fight, y'know. You can just walk away if it gets too much."

"Wish I could," Steve said heavily. "But it's more complicated than that."

"Is this about the guy with the metal arm?" she asked, and Steve stared at her. "What? I'm not a complete idiot. I notice things. He's… important, right? Important to you."

"Yeah. He… he is."

"Well, I hope you find him. And also, you should ask Sharon Carter out. She was making eyes at you over her eulogy, in case you hadn't noticed. I mean – I dunno how conservative you were back in the olden days, but now it's cool just to have, like, a thing. So have a thing."

Steve smiled. "Thanks for the tip-off."

"No problem. Come here," she said, and pulled him into a hug. He was very solid and warm, but he held onto her like she was stronger than him.

But Steve let go eventually, straightening his tie. "On a similar subject," he said, "we need to talk about Vision and Wanda."

"Don't," she said shortly, pressing a hand against her forehead "I've got enough to deal with without my best friend getting all… hormonal. Anyway – I'm gonna walk back to the hotel. Can you tell Sam when you see him?"

"Sure you'll be okay?" Steve asked her.

"I can look after myself."

On her route back to the hotel, Eva stopped off at a grocery store and, because it was either that or a bottle, bought a cheap plastic lighter and played with it for the rest of the walk. London was… weird. Back in New York all the buildings tended to look like the ones surrounding them, whether that be red brick or towering glass, but here there were black-and-white vaulted buildings sandwiched between Victorian gabled houses and sleek modern architecture, as though someone had mixed up the pieces from a hundred different jigsaw pieces and stuck them together any old how. Eva somehow managed not to get lost, and checked back into the hotel with slightly burnt fingers and a dirty feeling from the London smog.

While she was in the shower she heard Sam come into their room, and the TV turn on. Eva showered until the hot water had scalded away all the feelings of funeral, towelling her hair dry and wrapping the towel around herself before leaving.

"The water pressure in that shower made me see God, honestly, it was – OH MY GOD WHAT IS HE DOING IN HERE I HAVE NO CLOTHES ON!" Eva shrieked, ducking behind the couch as Steve quickly turned his back.

"I didn't see anything!" he replied hastily. She could hear the blush in his voice. "I promise!"

Suspiciously, readjusting the towel to provide better coverage, Eva rose into view and looked at the television. "Holy crap," she said, as helicopter shots drunk in the devastation in Vienna, "what happened?"

The news report answered her question for her. "Barnes, a suspected Enhanced who has been active for decades, has been linked to innumerable Soviet war crimes during the last fifty years. The fact that he chose the site of the Accords agreement as his latest target clearly shows the terrorist's opinions on the matter."

Barnes… the photo they showed was a staticky surveillance screencap of a man with a collar half-hiding his face and a glint of metal visible beneath one sleeve. "The man with the metal arm's Bucky Barnes?" Eva asked, and Sam nodded mutely. "But I gave him free coffee! There's no way that guy would blow up the UN. He looked like he was in the middle of a nervous breakdown!"

Steve and Sam exchanged glances. "Go," said the latter, "I'll catch up."

"You need to disappear."

"I know. Give me five minutes."

Steve nodded, gave Eva an apologetic look, and left the hotel suite. "Sam," said the coffee girl, "what the hell is going on?"

"Honestly?" said Sam. "No idea. But Steve –"

"Is going after Barnes," Eva finished for him, "yeah, I figured that. This is more than just the Accords now, isn't it? And you're going with him."

"I'm –"

"Don't," she said, "don't you dare apologize. You're an Avenger, Sam. I know what I signed up for. What can I do to help?"

Sam hesitated, then smiled. "Not many people would say that."

Eva shrugged, one hand still holding the towel secure. "Y'all are rubbing off on me with the altruism," she said. "I don't mind – I don't mind following you, if I need to. If I'm going to be in trouble too, then –"

"No," he said, "you're a civilian, they can't do anything to you. But if they ask where I've gone, keep quiet."

"I could lie and tell them you went underground without Steve."

"I think things are happening too quickly for that to help much. Eva, you can't tell anyone what you know about Barnes, okay? Not even Vision."

"But –"

"I know. He's your best friend, and it's not fair. But right now, because of the Accords, he's against Barnes and Steve."

"And you. Sam, I'm stuck in the middle of this! I never wanted – I mean, I should be worrying about paying off my student debt, not the ethical quandary of the regulation of superheroes! I don't even _like_ superheroes!"

"Eva, I'm sorry." He took her face and kissed her forehead.

"I told you not to apologize, asshole. And no, I won't tell V anything. Coffee shop confidentiality, and all that."

Sam laughed. "Stay in London. Stay safe, outta the way. Don't make a fuss and they'll forget you even exist, and just… keep an eye on the news, okay? I love you."

"You damn well should, Samuel Wilson. Good luck finding Bucky."

"You really don't think he did it," Sam said, "do you? There's footage of him there, and you still don't believe he did it."

"I don't care about all the important global catastrophe stuff," said Eva, "I care about whether or not someone's an asshole. And I don't think he is. I just think he's scared. When you and Steve find him… don't do anything stupid, alright?"

He saluted. "Enjoy the five-star hotel, Miss Kresk."

"Are you aware that the Chelsea Flower Show's on at the moment, Sam? I am gonna have the time of my life."

 **A/N okay so I keep this fic canon-compliant because that's the way I like it, but you have** ** _no idea_** **how tempted I was to send Eva off with the soldier boys and have her be the fourth passenger in that Beetle, crammed on the back seat with Bucky Barnes. Mind you, if that had happened there would have been no airport fight, because she would have marched up between the two sides with no regard for personal safety and given them such a telling-off, in a manner suitable to the legacy of Peggy Carter, that they would be too ashamed to fight. Rhodey and Bucky would be fine. Everyone could sort out their differences sensibly, for fear of incurring the wrath of the gardener, and the film would have ended in half the time with everyone happy. Never underestimate the power of a very angry woman who has direct control over the Avengers' caffeine supply. Also, Eva and Bucky would be absolute bros and now I probably have to wait until Infinity Wars to have them meet and bond over how ridiculously moral their best mates are.**


	81. Chapter 81 (Civil War)

Eva was awoken at five in the London morning by her phone rattling around on the hotel's bedside table. She groaned, swung her legs out of bed and answered it with an "mmph".

"Eva!" Vision's voice came down the line, painfully chipper. "You wouldn't happen to know any good recipes, would you?"

She rubbed her eyes and stared at the creamy blue wall of the hotel suite. "Huh?"

"Only, I feel like Wanda needs some company right now, and – what was that noise?"

"Me," she said groggily, "lamenting." _I do not want to be the one to give my android best friend The Talk._ "Can't you just, like, buy her a beer or something?"

There was a brief pause. "Eva," said Vision, "I'm not sure what you're implying, but –"

"Shut up," she said. "Alvie sent me something a while back for this spicy thing, I'll email it to you." She held her phone at arm's length, wincing at the brightness of the screen, and forwarded the recipe. "Got it?" she asked, returning it to her ear.

"Yes. Thank you."

"Very welcome. Now tell me what the hell's going on, V, because not even you would cook a meal at…" she did the time-zone maths in her head, "… eleven at night without an ulterior motive. And if you say it's just because you want to enjoy the pleasure of Wanda's company, I swear to the almighty that I will reach through this wireless connection and punch you in the ear. Wait. You don't have ears. Never mind."

"She has to stay in the HQ," Vision explained, and in the background of the call she could hear him opening and closing kitchen closets. "What does paprika look like?"

"Paint powder mixed with hellfire. Why the house arrest?"

"Mr Stark's orders. She refused to sign the Accords, and what with the incident in Lagos recently… I would rather she felt safe here than as if she were in a prison."

Eva slapped herself round the face in order to wake herself up a bit more. "She won't appreciate you lying to her, y'know."

"She might not find out."

"Vision, sweetheart, you are undoubtedly the most wonderful person ever to grace this forsaken planet, but you also have a terrible poker face and Wanda Maximoff is not an idiot. You sure you can't just buy her a pizza?"

"No," he said firmly, "I have to do this properly."

"Have you ever even eaten anything?"

"… That is an issue that is swiftly becoming apparent," Vision admitted, and Eva flopped back onto the empty bed with a wail. "Oh, dear. You're lamenting again, aren't you?"

"Despairing, actually. It's a bit more resigned than lamenting. V, this Accords stuff – Sam and Rogers've disappeared to look for Barnes, you're trying to give this poor woman Stockholm Syndrome, I'm stuck in London – how is this gonna end?"

"I wish I knew," Vision said ruefully. "But I think it best you stay away from the HQ until this has all blown over."

Why did people keep saying that to her? She wasn't an idiot, she knew that the best place to be when trouble was happening was, if at all possible, somewhere else. "That'll be easy. Europe's been a no-fly zone ever since the UN attack. Just… be careful, okay? Promise."

"Cross my heart," he said. "Have a wonderful time in London."

"Yeah, yeah. Text me when you get to second base."

"Eva!"

"Sorry! I was tired and I said the first thing that came into my head!" she giggled, curling up on the bed. "Oh, man! That was bad! I need to wipe that mental image from my brain completely!"

"Goodnight, Eva."

"Good luck!" she called down the phone as she went to hang up.

 **A/N before watching Civil War, I figured that they could take Vision's characterisation one of two ways - either focus on this godlike, benevolent figure that he was presented as in AoU, or take advantage of his innocence to make him** ** _a gigantic dweeb._** **If pressed, I would have put my money on the former of those two options. I have never been more happy to be wrong. WHAT A NERD. HE WEARS JUMPERS. NERD.**


	82. Chapter 82 (Civil War)

Eva, who had dreamed of being a gardener since she was old enough to hold a trowel and dislike her parents' concreting business, was wandering around the RHS Chelsea Flower Show in a state of utter and complete delight. She had just spent twenty minutes talking to what she was fairly sure was her (non-synthetic) soulmate: a heavily tattooed, earringed man in his late forties who had spent the last year of his life carefully cultivating a small flock of perfectly delicate, colourful irises, and talked about them with such emotion that it brought a tear to his eye.

 _I have to get something here next year,_ Eva thought fervently, wandering between beds filled with lavender and foxglove. Sure, working as a groundskeeper was nice, but this was where her heart lay, in designing small, intricate masterpieces of living things. She was buzzing like a honeybee with excitement, and her mind was whirling with ideas and inspiration.

There was only one issue with the blue-skied perfect picture she was currently living in, and that was the international crisis currently occurring. _Still,_ she thought, _the Avengers can look after themselves for a week, right? And the only other person I've got to worry about it Alvie, and I doubt that_ she's _got anything to do with all of this._

She drifted happily through the grand pavilion and took a seat in a little café to order a pot of tea, which was practically and wonderfully on tap over here. As she waited for the waitress to bring it over, Eva doodled garden designs in her notepad and watched the news on the television in the corner with one eye, keeping an eye out for any familiar names or faces. Of course, the Avengers were all over it, so much so that when it cut to a press conference with the less-than-aesthetically-pleasing Thaddeus Ross she was actually relieved.

"We have allowed Athena free reign up until this point," Ross was explaining, "but releasing information with the deliberate intent of assisting with the escape of a terrorist has forced our hand." The cameras flashed off of him, and Eva pursed her lips. Athena… yes, she knew that name from days spent loitering around the HQ corridors. She was an information broker, wasn't she? And a hacker - but that didn't seem like a crime compared to everything else that had happened the last couple of days. What had she done to piss off Ross?

"The UN is declaring Alvine Kennings, also known as Athena, as an enemy of the state."

" _WHAT?!"_ Eva shrieked, making the person next to her drop their tea. "Alvie? _Alvie Kennings_ is Athena? SERIOUSLY?"

She fumbled with her phone and punched in Alvie's number, but instead of a ringing sound all she got was her answerphone message.

"Is everything alright?" the man with tea in his lap asked, leaning over to her. Normally Eva wasn't one for sharing, but his accent reminded her of Vision so much that she couldn't help herself.

"Not really," she said, "that news report – Athena – what's she done? Why's she an enemy of the state now?"

"Um… I _believe_ that she leaked the location of James Barnes to the rogue Avengers. That's all it takes to make you a terrorist these days, apparently."

"One!" Eva cried, balling her hands up in her hair. "That's all I wanted! Just one normal friend! I'm cursed! I'm actually cursed!"

"I beg your pardon?"

She struggled to get a hold of herself, remembering that, in England, emotions were there to be repressed. "Sorry, I, uh… what else is happening? With the Avengers, I mean?"

"Well," said the man, now looking at her with some concern, "they've found Barnes, broken out of a secure facility in Berlin and that Maximoff girl has fled the US with the chap that shoots all the arrows. I can only assume that they are squaring up for some kind of epic battle." He said it in a very disapproving manner, and poured himself another cup of tea from the pot. "Americans, eh?"

"But half of them aren't even – oh, never mind," Eva sighed, and looked back up at the television which was now showing some grainy CCTV footage of Tony Stark leaving what must have been that facility in Berlin the man had mentioned. She should call Sam, or Vision, or _someone –_

 _No. You're on holiday. You can't get involved. If you get involved then that's the beginning of a_ lot _of trouble._

She nibbled her lip. What would Peggy do? Stay calm, first and foremost, and not do anything rash. Eva took a deep breath to calm herself down and texted Sam, Vision and Alvie the same thing:

 ** _To: Tall glass of water, Alvie in wonderland, Is it a bird? Yes_**

 ** _-Dont do anything stupid or everything else is gonna look like a playground fight compared to me being mad at you okay? love you xx_**

It made her feel a little bit better, although she doubted that she would receive any reply at such a tense time as this –

 ** _From: Alvie in wonderland_**

 ** _-TOO LATE LMAO_**

 ** _From: Is it a bird? Yes_**

 ** _-Rogers accepts full responsibility for my actions so get mad at him not me xx_**

 ** _From: Tall glass of water_**

 ** _-Duly noted. Take care of yourself too x_**

Eva looked out of the café window at the picturesque gardens, bustling with butterflies and visitors to the show. _I don't understand my life anymore,_ she thought gloomily, as the waitress brought her her tea.

 **A/N so this particular fic is, I am 90% certain, going to go on hiatus for a couple of weeks, because a) I'm in the middle of exams and, more importantly, b) the next chapter has spoilers for Finding Bucky in it - more specifically, spoilers for a chapter that isn't out yet. They're only mentioned in passing, but I feel like it would be inherently morally wrong to spoil something that I haven't even updated with the spoilery bits in question yet. Does that make sense? I don't know. I'm very tired. You know what I mean, I think.**

 **Apologies for the very Alvie-heavy chapter for those of you who don't read Finding Bucky, too. I'm okay with using her as a character in this fic, but I don't like their plots overlapping too much like this. Still, if Civil War had everybody and their mum in it (literally, in Tony's case) then I can make an exception for this chapter, and to be fair Eva kind of deserved to find out at this point. Anyway, I'm babbling. Feel free to read the other Civilian Chronicles while you wait for the next instalment of this. I'll love you forever.**


	83. Chapter 83 (Civil War)

_A series of disasters later_

The HQ was practically desolate. Eva carried just one cup and found Tony Stark sat in the rec room, staring at the chess pieces scattered across their board on the coffee table.

"So," she said, "I leave for one week, and just as the plane's landing I get a phone call from my boyfriend, saying he's just been broken out of prison and it's probably for the best if we break up. My best friend's locked himself in his room, the news is having a field day with you lot, half of you are AWOL, Alvie's a terrorist sympathiser currently seeking asylum in Wakanda, of all places, and, to top it all off, you seem to be living here at the moment, with Pepper nowhere to be seen. Stark," she said, sitting down opposite him, "what the hell happened?"

His face was heavily bruised, and he looked older and more tired than she had ever seen him. "We're on a break," he said in a voice barely above a whisper, and hid his face in his hands. It wasn't until Eva noticed his shoulders shaking that she realized he was crying. "Oh, Jesus. What have I done?"

 _Uh oh._ She hurriedly swapped seats so she was sat beside Stark, and patted him awkwardly on the shoulder. "There, there."

He paused and looked up. _"There, there?"_ he repeated incredulously, and Eva rolled her eyes.

"It's the best you're gonna get, so don't push it. Tony, what's wrong with Vision? And why's War Machine got robot legs?"

"Do you even watch the news?" Tony asked her hoarsely. "There was a war, Boothby. Rhodey got hit… by my own creation, my own supposedly benevolent creation. And that's not even the worst thing to happen that's on me this week."

"Wait – _Vision_ did that to him?"

"It was an accident. He was aiming for Wilson."

" _What?!"_

And so, with great reluctance, Tony explained. He told her about Bucky, and the Winter Soldier experiments, and Zemo, a man blinded by vengeance and grief. He told her about Pepper leaving him, and Ross manipulating him, and his friends turning against each other. He told her about a kid from Queens that he had dragged into a war. He told her about nearly killing Steve, and Steve leaving, and Steve sending him a letter to call when he needed him, and Tony not knowing what that was even supposed to mean, because he needed him _now._ By the end of it Eva was almost crying, too.

"It was the suits," he murmured, "it was always the damn suits. You wouldn't understand."

Eva looked at her hands. "It's not an addiction," she said, "because you can give it up any time you want, and it's not a cliché because it's true, and you've done it before. You just choose not to, you choose to come back to it, because there's always a reason, always an excuse, and suddenly it's as natural as breathing and there the damn thing is, sitting in the palm of your hand like it's just another part of you."

She looked up. Tony was staring at her.

"You have your iron man suits," she said awkwardly, "I have alcohol. This is… one hell of a mess, Stark." Tony snorted. "Drink your espresso, it'll make you feel better. It's decaf."

"I didn't ask for decaf."

"I know." She placed the cup on the table in front of him, since she knew he didn't like to be handed things and chewed the inside of her cheek, trying to figure out what to say next. "I've been weaning you off of it. Barnes really killed your parents?"

"Don't wanna talk about it."

"Good, 'cause I ain't a therapist."

"Then why'd you ask?"

"Because I was interested. What do you think's going to happen now?"

"No idea," Tony said, with a thousand-yard stare. "I keep an eye on Wakanda, and on Queens. And try not to screw up what little there is left I haven't ruined. Aside from that… I dunno."

"You could help your friend learn to walk again," Eva said. "Just a suggestion. Or track down Wilson and tell him that, no matter the circumstances, breaking up over the phone is always a shitty thing to do."

To her surprise, Tony laughed. "And what do you do now, coffee girl?" he asked.

"Well," she said, "first, I'm gonna resign from this place. Barton set fire to the coppice while I was gone, and I'm not gonna work with people like that anymore. Besides, I need to… step back. I think we all do. So I'm going to go ask for a full-time job at the coffee shop, and do gardening freelance – but before that I'm going to break Vision's door down with a hammer unless he opens it."

"Why?"

"Because I'm the self-pitying one in our friendship, not him. He's not _allowed_ to be sad. Neither are you, for that matter. You're Iron Man."

"Iron Man doesn't have clinical anxiety."

"Well, maybe he should, if that's what Tony Stark's got. It would help make him a little bit more human, y'know? People'd understand if he messed up every now and then. God knows I never expected anything of you, and I think I might be in the small minority that doesn't want to punch you in the face right now. So if you'll excuse me, I have my responsibilities as a best friend to get back to." She stood up. "There's a lot of uncertainty going on at the moment. So I'm just focusing on what I know. You should, too."

"Pearls of wisdom from a twenty-year-old," Tony said.

"Twenty-two, actually. I hate to say it, but…" she gritted her teeth. _Come on, Kresk. You can do it. They're only words._ "You're not a bad person, Stark. Focus on what you know's right, and build up from there. Help the friends you have in the base before anything else."

Tony paused, and joined her in standing. "Thanks for the coffee," he said.

She smiled. "No problem. I'll see you around."

"God, I hope not. Let's never do this again."

"Agreed."

%

Eva slammed her fist against the door. "I can't do the walk-through-walls thing like you do," she yelled, "so the fact you're not letting me in is very unfair. Vision. _Vision._ "

There was a soft click, and the door swung open. Before he had a chance to say or do anything, Eva hugged Vision as tightly as she could manage. "Why didn't you call me?" she asked. "I've been worried sick!"

"Oh, Eva," he said, in a broken voice. "I have done such a terrible thing. You shouldn't be here."

She let go of him. "No matter how many times you mess up," she told him, "I will still be your friend, and I will always be here for you. I know about Rhodey, V. He's already walking. And Wanda's out of prison too, so you needn't worry about her."

"But –"

"No buts! Outside this room, Tony Stark is feeling just as crappy as you are, and I am having to pick up the pieces instead of being sat at home with no pants on, eating ice cream and crying over my break-up like I should be. Alvie's buggered off to Wakanda, V. The call charges to Africa are _insane._ Sam's god know's where after dumping me on the phone, Vision, the damn _phone_ , and I miss my friend. And I refuse to believe that anything you could have done would be so bad as to necessitate this much angst. You're not allowed to angst. It's not your job."

He half-smiled. This troubled her, because normally she could have got at least a laugh out of him by now. "I do not deserve you, Eva."

"I could say the same about you." She took his hand. "Remember when we first met? And I told you I didn't particularly enjoy being alive?"

"Vividly."

"You changed my mind, sweetheart. You saved my life. And if I'm as important as you always say I am, then that should at least cancel out any bad stuff you've done recently. Vision, being human is hard, and it means making more mistakes than should even be possible. But you prove your humanity by carrying on."

"But what should I do?" he asked. "Everything I know has fallen apart."

"Then you try and put it back together, bit by bit. It won't be fun, but you'll do it anyway. I'll help. And the first thing you can do is going and talk to Stark."

He looked at her. She wondered if he could cry. "How do you do it?" he asked her. "How do you carry on?"

"Because you made me believe that the world is capable of better," she said, "and it won't achieve that on its own. And because I love you, even when you're sad. And I love Alvie, even when she's on the other side of the world. And Sam, even when he's just dumped me. And the rest of you. Even when you screw up and break, I still love you. And if I keep moving forward, then I can drag you all along with me."

"That is a heavy weight to carry, Eva."

"But bearable," she said, "always just about bearable. Besides, there's people who love me and I am _terrified_ of letting them down. Please will you help me?"

This time she got a proper, full – if a little sad still – smile. "Of course."

"Good. I love you."

"I love you, too."

And the two of them, the gardener girl and the synthetic man, left the room holding hands, and tried to make the world a little easier to bear.

 **A/N I'm baaaack**


	84. Chapter 84

"So how's Wakanda?" Eva asked, holding the phone to her ear in one hand and mixing the pancake batter with the other.

"Lots of trees," Alvie said, "you'd love it. Eva, I really am sorry I never told you I was Athena."

"Right," said Eva, "you should be. Al, honey, what the _hell_ did you do to end up how you are now?"

"A series of things that I thought were good ideas at the time," said Alvie, "how far back d'you want me to go?"

"… You know what? Don't even bother. Athena and Alvie are two ontologically distinct people, in my book."

"Nice long word, there."

"Vision has affected me somewhat, I will admit." Eva paused as the sound of Rachel Carson yowling at something echoed around the kitchen. "My cat's going crazy at something. I need to go. And I'm glad you're safe, Alvie. Other stuff doesn't matter."

"Okay. I'll call you next week."

"It's a date," said Eva, and hung up. _I need normal friends,_ she thought, bending down to scratch her cat behind the ears. "What's the matter, Rachel Carson? You haven't developed any kitty superpowers, have you? I wouldn't be surprised."

Rachel Carson was sat by the closed balcony door, mewling at something hovering outside it between the leaves of Eva's potted plants. "Is that… Redwing?" Eva said out loud, walking up to the door. Yes, she would recognize that little drone anywhere. She opened the window and Redwing swooped into the middle of her lounge, where it paused in midair. A small screen popped out of its back and flashed a message at her.

 _Roof._

Eva's eyes widened, and she didn't even bother to put shoes on as she vaulted her plants and ran up the fire escape to the rooftop allotment. There, leaning on the wall of the shed, was:

"Sam!"

"Hey, baby," he said, hugging her. "Figured you'd be pissed if I left it at a phone call."

"I was pissed," she said, _"extremely_ pissed. How'd you even get Redwing? I thought they had confiscated all your gear!"

Sam held up his wrist and tapped the smart watch he was wearing. "Through the ventilation shaft of the holding facility. They underestimated the ingenuity of cute flying things. Speaking of cute flying things – me. I'm not even supposed to be here."

"I figured _that,_ " said Eva, "Alvie's a political refugee on the other side of the world and she's not in half the amount of trouble you are. Sam, you need to go."

"I needed to see you first," he said. "Eva –"

"It's not me," she said, "it's you. Right? Sam, I get it. I'm over the rage stage of you dumping me, I can think straight now. I can't… I can't date a runaway superhero. It's dangerous, and stressful, and it's not worth it. I quit my job at the HQ, as well. I think coffee for the world's most obnoxious superpeople is more than enough, don't you? But thanks for coming to see me. But if you could tell your mom that it's not my fault we broke up, that'd be grand. I'm more scared of her than I am most evil villains."

Sam laughed. "Sure," he said. "You deserve better than to be caught up in all this, anyway."

"I don't, but I appreciate the thought. Bucky Barnes… he was innocent, wasn't he? Is he okay?"

"He's… safe," said Sam. "And you were right. The UN was nothing to do with him."

"Told you so." She rose up onto tiptoe and kissed his cheek. "Be careful with whatever it is you do next."

"You too. Keep an eye on Anna for me. She was one step away from becoming another Zemo, y'know. The only thing that stopped her was you."

"All I did was talk to her."

"It worked better than fighting, didn't it?"

"Yeah," said Eva, "I guess it did. I'll see you again, maybe."

"Hopefully," Sam said, and saluted. "Miss Kresk."

"Avenger Wilson." She gave him one last smile and went back downstairs. _Jerk,_ she thought affectionately, closing the balcony door behind her and scratching Rachel Carson behind the ears. "Come on, Rachel Carson. I got the evening off work and _Vertigo_ on DVD. Sounds like a party to me, huh?"

 **A/N story time with SiriusLOCKED: okay so the other day I went up to this really low-key gig to see this blues singer I like, and I kind of drunk quite a lot of whisky because go hard or go home, and then the singer guy forgot the lyrics to his own song and I kindly, innocently and without malice, offered to google them for him, and then the internet did not yield the lyrics and he took the piss out of me for the best part of a song for failing him while I flipped him off because I was drunk and could not make sensible decisions. So yeah, that was one of the best nights of my life. PM me if you want the video link of me embarrassing myself, because it does exist but to preserve the last of my dignity I am NOT sharing it publically. Anyhoo. How's your summer going?**


	85. Chapter 85

_A few months previously_

"Hi, how can I he – what the _hell_ is that?!"

Sam responded by grinning as the little red drone orbited around the ceiling of the coffee shop with a soft whirring noise, swooping between the low-hanging lamps. "Usual list if you please, Miss Kresk."

Eva folded her arms and followed the path of Redwing with her eyes, finally seeing the much-hyped invention in the flesh. Titanium. Whatever. "Stark finished it, then."

"He's not an it," Sam retorted, "he's a he. He's called Redwing, and if I can put up with Rachel Carson, then –"

"I'm sorry sir, we don't allow pets in here."

"Aw, c'mon. Look at him, Eva. He's cute. Admit it. You know you wanna."

Eva suppressed a sigh and looked at the drone, which was now hovering over Sam's shoulder. She felt like it was watching her, and as soon as that thought occurred to her it bleeped. Okay. Maybe it was slightly cute. But she would never admit that, and certainly not while it was flying around and almost knocking over all the fake-rustic interior design.

"You're not getting caffeine until it leaves," she told Sam, who frowned and held out his hand. Redwing folded into a little metal lump about the size of an old-fashioned brick phone, and Sam stuck it back in his pocket. "Thank you."

"You did think he was cute, though," he said as she turned to the coffee machine, "right?"

"I've seen cuter."

"Like what?"

"Its owner."

"Smooth, Kresk. That was real smooth," Sam laughed, "remind me you said that next time we got a night off work."

"I'll make a note," Eva said with a cocky grin. "But my cat's still better than your robot bird."

"Is not."

"Is too."

"Redwing can take out targets from a distance of four hundred feet."

"Yeah, well," Eva said defensively, "last week, Rachel Carson killed a bird and brought it back to show me."

"That's disgusting," Sam commented.

"You're just prejudiced against your natural predator, Falcon," Eva retorted.

"Are you saying I'm scared of your cat? Because I am not scared of your cat, Kresk. I just don't like it."

"Yeah, 'cause you're scared of it. Everyone else likes the cat. Vision likes the cat. Alvie likes the cat. All the other Avengers liked the cat when I brought her to the HQ over Christmas. You know why? Because they're not bird people, Sam. They're not scared of my cat."

"The cat don't like me!"

"That is also true," Eva nodded. "Imagine if your favorite food group suddenly got, like, two hundred times bigger and had access to high-tech weaponry, not to mention the person who looks after you."

"You know," said Sam, "I'm not actually a bird."

"I've seen you drunk, Sam. You yelled "caw caw, motherlover" and rugby tackled Rogers. Except you said the more explicit version of motherlover which I can't say because I'm at work. Not-bird-people don't do that."

"Touché," Sam said, and grinned in recollection. "That was a good night. Still got the bruises."

Eva slid the coffee cups over to him, and took the bills he exchanged for them. "Go, Bird Man. Go be a hero."

 **A/N since it's summer, how do y'all feel about me giving you some book recommendations?**

 **If you like my style of humour and a plethora of weird characters, try Neverwhere by Neil Gaiman - it's basically Narnia for grown ups. If my feeble attempts at demonstrating how wonderful humans can be sometimes in the face of cruelty were enjoyed by you, try Wonder by RJ Palacio, and if you like** ** _that_** **then check out Ways To Live Forever by Sally Nicholls. Howl's Moving Castle by Diana Wynne Jones is also a lovely book to read over the summer, and if you've seen the film then please,** ** _please_** **read the book. It's super-different. If you dig the behemoth, world-building, character-filled style of the Avengers films, and also dry conversational humour like I try to do with this fic, try the Skulduggery Pleasant series. And if you're looking for superheroes try volume one of Gail Simone's run on Batgirl, The Darkest Reflection, which is what got me into comics.**

 **Whew. I tried to make those relevant and interesting to those of you who like this. If it proves popular, I might do recs again some time. If y'all hated this A/N, then we'll pretend it just never happened. And if there's anything you want _me_ to read, just drop a review/PM :)**


	86. Chapter 86

Eva dug the spade in as deep as it could go and, with an unattractive grunt, turned the soil over, breaking up the dirt that had become compacted over the last couple of months. "That's this plot done," she announced, then put her thumb and forefinger inside her mouth and whistled shrilly. "BRING ME THE SPROUTLINGS!" she yelled, in as impressive and deep a voice as she could manage.

The dozen or so kids that lived in her apartment block ran over with trays of tiny green plants that had been growing on their bedroom windowsills for the last few weeks until they were mature enough to go outside. Vision followed them with an armful and knelt down next to Eva as she showed her tiny workers where and how to plant what would soon become enough vegetables to feed the plot for a week. She liked growing useful stuff the best – her block was on the border between Brooklyn and Manhattan, one of the least gentrified areas of the city, so most of its residents were those who wouldn't live anywhere less central than the middle of New York but couldn't afford anywhere nicer. As such, the free food (since the rooftop garden was funded by a charity scheme) had made Eva's little skyline allotment one of the most popular ones in the city.

"They've asked me to be an ambassador for the project," she told Vision, who liked to help on his days off and, even with the recent stuff involving the Accords dispute (to put it mildly), was immensely popular with the younger ones. "How cool is that? It's voluntary, so I'm not getting paid or anything, but it's still work."

"Very cool," Vision agreed, and Eva grinned at his echoing of her casual language, since it sounded very odd in his formal voice. "That is a magnificent jumper, by the way."

Eva narrowed her eyes. He was so nice most of the time that at moments like this she could never tell if he was being sarcastic enough. "Hmm," she said, pushing the sleeves of the enormous knitted sweater up past her elbows. "Mrs J knitted it for me. Y'know, the woman you met in the elevator – _no, Raj, you use the trowel the other way around! –_ when you first came round."

"It's very colourful."

"She used special rainbow wool," said Eva, "it's got tinsel strands in it too, so it glitters."

"I can see."

She stuck her tongue out at him. "How're Stark and Rhodey?"

"Quiet," Vision replied. "Eva, would you mind if we – it's just that I'd rather not talk about it."

"Got it," she said. Vision visited her far more than she did him, and she got the impression it was to escape the HQ and the people within it – or, perhaps, the _lack of_ people. "I was only being polite. I don't actually care about Stark at all."

Vision laughed. "Tell me more about being an ambassador."

"Well," said Eva, "they want me to go out to Queens some more, since it's pretty much the only borough they haven't got much of a presence in, and once we're spread throughout the city we're gonna try and get other urbanised areas involved, too. But I dunno," she added uncertainly, "it's a lot of responsibility. And I'm kinda, y'know. Crap."

"Eva," Vision said sternly, "you are nothing of the kind. They would not have asked you to be an ambassador if they didn't think you would do an excellent job – which you _will,_ by the way."

"Aw," she said, pressing her hands to her cheeks to hide her blush and smearing mud all over them in the process, "babe. Shut _up._ "

"Eva," said Maya, one of the kids, "I done the tomatoes. What now?"

"Grab the watering can from the shed and fill it up," Eva instructed her, "get one of the bigger ones to help you carry it back, it'll be heavy. And don't water your sister, I got in enough trouble with your mom last time. Actually, Vision, can you give her a hand?"

"Of course," said Vision, standing up. "Lead the way, Miss Maya."

"Yay!" Maya grabbed Vision's maroon hand in her tiny one and hauled him off to the shed. Eva smiled as she watched them go, feeling an odd, blossoming sense of pride. _It would have been so easy,_ she thought, _for him to have hidden away in that damn compound and felt sorry for himself ever since half the A-team went rogue. But here he is, running around after me and my block like any other ordinary, long-suffering person._ It didn't even occur to her that the reason he was there in the first place was because of her.

"Oh," Eva said once he had returned from his quest, "Alvie called last night. She says hi. Which is _weird,_ when I think about it, considering you're technically enemies. Or at least, you were last time I checked."

"Is Alvie the crazy lady?" Maya asked, splashing water on the greenery. "I like her. Sam thinks she's a witch."

"Not gonna lie, she would probably be pretty flattered by that label," Eva said.

"How is she?" Vision asked.

"Good. Wakanda's doing her well, I think. She says I might be able to go out and visit her at some point – would you be okay if I left you for a couple weeks?"

"I'm sure I could manage," Vision told her.

"Well, last time I left you unsupervised you went to Berlin and blew up an airport, so…" she tailed off, and giggled at his expression. "Kidding. I just worry about the only influence on you being Stark."

"Colonel Rhodes is there, too," Vision said, and, like every other time he mentioned the soldier, his tone was edged with guilt. Eva sighed and patted him on the shoulder.

"Not your fault, remember?"

Vision nodded, not looking at her. "Yes."

"Maya," said Eva, "hit Vision for being an idiot."

"Ouch!" Vision said, in mock pain, and Maya giggled as she ran away.

"Can't catch me!" she yelled, from the other side of the rooftop.

"Hey, be careful!" Eva called after her. "I don't want anyone else falling off the edge! We're lucky we had someone who could fly here last time to catch Jimmy when he was being an assho – an idiot. Thanks again for that, by the way, V."

"It was no problem. His mother has thanked me more than enough already."

"She baked you the pie, right?"

"Yes."

"And you didn't tell her you don't eat?"

"I thought it would sound ungrateful," Vision mumbled, "besides, I took it back to the compound and _somebody_ ate it, so it didn't go to waste."

Eva neglected to mention that, when she had slept over the following day, she had got hungry during the night, sneaked into the kitchen and devoured the entire thing without telling anybody. "You're an idiot," she told him, and kissed his cheek. "Never change."

 **A/N I got into university! I did WAY better in my A-Levels than I thought I would, too, and I am, to use the proper British terminology, well chuffed. Now I just have to spend the next 3-4 years of my life working my way through all of English literature. Yay!**


	87. Chapter 87: Doctor Strange (SPOILERS)

**WARNING: mild Doctor Strange spoilers ahead.**

It was a nice, quiet evening in the coffee shop, and Eva was spending it sat on the side with her feet up, doing the crossword. They were closing in half an hour, the floors were mopped and the chairs were upturned, and there was nobody there to interrupt this rare moment of perfect solitu –

 _Tingaling._

She hopped off of the counter at the sound of the doorbell ringing and a man in a suit strode up to the counter. Outside, a flashy looking supercar was parked in idle, in a no parking zone. It wasn't Eva's problem, so she didn't mention it. "Can I help you, sir?"

"Espresso for Strange," the man replied.

"Sure," she said, "I'll write the name down in case I can't find you later in this vast crowd."

"Funny," said Strange, "real funny. And make it quick, will you? I have places to be."

"And here's me thinking you wore bowties all the time," Eva said as the coffee machine juddered into life. "You do seem like that kinda person."

"Oh," said Strange, "I am. You just happen to have caught me on an evening when I am, in fact, in hot demand. Although that is _most_ evenings, come to think of it." He shot her a dazzling smile.

"Well, aren't you just the picture of humility?" Eva asked, grabbing a cardboard shot cup from the shelf.

"There's humility and then there's blatant dishonesty. Don't you take pride in your prowess as a barista?" Strange asked. "Admittedly it's not quite on the same level as pioneering neurosurgery, but we all save the world in our own small ways."

"Very profound," Eva said, "and no, I don't. I'm in the service industry, it's compulsory for me to hate my job."

Strange chuckled. "Pithy epigram."

"Cheers," said Eva, "I think. Here ya go, sir. Three sixty."

He dropped a ten dollar bill on the counter. "Keep the change," he said, sipping at the cup as he walked away. "This is good coffee! You should be proud!"

Eva rolled her eyes and went back to the crossword, switching on the radio to keep her company as, outside the shopfront, the sports car roared away. About half an hour later she was trying to figure out an eight-letter word for a wizard or magician (fourth letter C) when something on the news caught her attention.

"… acclaimed neurosurgeon Doctor Stephen Strange was found in the wreckage of his car later this evening and has been airlifted to the same hospital where he earned his fame. His status is alive, but his condition beyond that is unknown."

"Jesus," Eva murmured, glancing over at the counter where the man had been stood just a short while ago. As the newscaster moved on to matters of politics and culture, she switched off the radio and wrapped her arms around herself. _I hope he's okay._

And then she forgot all about it.

%

 _A while (let's say a movie's worth of time) later_

"Hello again."

 _Oh,_ thought Eva, taking in the man's extravagant attire, _good. Another superhero._ "I'm sorry, sir. Do I know you?"

"Strange," said the man, "Doctor Strange."

"Oh! The car crash guy. You grew a beard and I forgot about you," she said, and Strange frowned. "Espresso, right?"

"Please. And I can hardly believe that you forgot about me," he said with a laugh, "I mean, I made headline news just moments after I left this place."

"I've witnessed bigger headlines," Eva replied. "No offense."

"None taken," Strange said coolly. "Anyway, I've just moved into a place on Bleecker Street, right next to the intersection, so we'll be seeing a lot more of each other. I _have_ to make your espressos a regular thing."

"Yay," said Eva, "more costumes in my coffee shop. Great."

"Hey," said Strange, "don't offend the cape."

"Whatever," said Eva, "here's your coffee. Three –"

"Three sixty, I remember. A ten-dollar note and keep the change, right?"

"Um," she said, "can you do it in two fives? That way I actually get to keep some of it as a tip, but my boss says if it's unbroken I can't trade the money out of the register. Dumb policy, but."

Strange nodded, pulled a wallet out of the recesses of his robe, and traded the ten dollar bill for two fives. "Do you deliver?" he asked.

"For our regulars."

"Great," he said. "And you don't get freaked out easily, do you? My place is a little… trippy."

"I'm unfazeable," said Eva, tucking one of the bills into her back pocket.

"Excellent. See you around –" he squinted at her name tag – "Eva."

"Doctor," she said, and waved goodbye. Something about him made her like the man. And by something, she meant the five dollar tip in her back pocket.

 **A/N I think we can all agree that the Cloak of Levitation/Magic Flying Cape is the best character in the MCU, right? I think I'm going to have to do a delivery chapter for the Sanctum Sanctorum too, because that place is** ** _flashy._** **So expect that, a Spider-Man chapter for when Homecoming comes out, and a couple involving one king of Wakanda that I'm doing pre-Black Panther film. EXCITING TIMES.**


	88. Chapter 88: Wakanda I

Eva's first impression of Wakanda was that it was hot. Stepping off the plane was like going into a sauna, and she was glad that she had frozen her knees off in JFK airport with her shorts, since jeans here would have surely surmounted into instant death. At customs a woman in a white suit approached her. "Miss Kresk?" she said in a heavy Wakandan accent, as Eva fumbled with her passport and rucksack.

"Uh, yes, ma'am. Hello."

"If you would like to follow me," said the woman, leading her away from the main part of the airport.

"Am I in trouble?" Eva asked nervously. It would be just like her to have done something wrong before even clearing security in a new country.

"No, Miss Kresk. King T'Challa has arranged transport for you. Through here, please."

"Ri-i-ight. And, um, what kind of transport is that?" she asked. "It's not a car, is it?"

"No, Miss Kresk. The home of Alvie Kennings is inaccessible by automobile."

"Well, that's okay, then."

"You will be travelling by helicopter."

"WHAT?!"

They walked out onto a helipad, upon which stood a glossy black helicopter with its dragonfly wings spinning faster than the human eye could perceive. Another woman took Eva's bag for her and held out a hand to pull her up into the machine before handing her a pair of headphones.

"The flight will take roughly an hour and a half, Miss Kresk," the second woman said through the radio, as the first climbed in behind her. A third was sat in the cockpit, fiddling with the controls.

"Right," Eva yelled back over the roar of the helicopter, "if you don't mind me asking - who the hell are you people?"

"We are the Dora Milaje, Miss Kresk. Personal security for King T'Challa."

This is so weird, Eva thought fervently. She knew her friend was now directly employed by the monarch in some laboratory deep in the African jungle, but experiencing it directly was completely insane. She didn't deserve to get a lift off of a king! She was a barista! A gardener! She lived in a crappy Manhattan apartment, for goodness' sake!

The helicopter took off abruptly, and Eva's fingers dug into the leather of the seat as they ascended. Risking a glance out of the window, she saw Wakanda's small capital city unfold beneath her, a web of gray in a sea of lush green, mountains rising and falling like sea waves. It was breathtaking, and also completely terrifying, so she shut her eyes again and tried not to fear-sweat as well as heat-sweat.

An eternity later, one of the Dora Milaje tapped her on the shoulder. "We have almost arrived, Miss Kresk," she said, and against her better judgement Eva peered downwards through the glass.

The green was endless now, unbroken by roads and rivers save for a single crashing waterfall that descended from a cliff in the distance. Clinging to the mountainside a white rock building sprawled, its massive windows glinting in the sunlight, but that wasn't what she was looking at. Oh, no, her eyes were immediately drawn to the colossal stone panther that rose from the treeline, maw drawn back in an eternal snarl like it was guarding the space-age building behind it.

"That's a bloody big cat, if you don't mind me saying," Eva commented, with all the poetry in her soul.

"Yes, Miss Kresk."

The helicopter began to descend onto the roof of the building, where two small figures were waiting. One of them was instantly recognisable by her jewel-bright clothes and her jumping up and down and waving, while the other was stood rather more demurely and, as they pulled closer, Eva felt as though she recognized him from somewhere. The helicopter landed with a judder, the engines died, and Eva yanked off her seatbelt and fell of onto the building on her hands and knees, clutching at the solid stone and never intending to leave it again.

"Eva!"

She stood up, only to be almost felled again by a hug from Alvie. "Hey, honey," she said in a voice still shaking from the fear of the chopper ride, "I missed you, too."

Alvie let her go and beamed. Wakanda had done her good, it seemed - her skin was sun-darkened to a richer brown color that suited her better, bringing out the gold in her eyes, and there was something else about her too... an aura of contentedness that she had lacked in New York.

"You've barely been in the country two hours!" Alvie exclaimed. "How are you already sunburnt?"

"I'm from Texas, I thought I would cope with heat," Eva replied, "clearly, I was wrong."

Alvie laughed, and kissed her on both cheeks. "Oh, before forget - Eva, this is T'Challa, King of Wakanda and Black Panther. T'Challa, this is Eva. She's a barista."

"Don't sell me short, Kennings," Eva muttered, dropping into an awkward curtsy. T'Challa, who looked nothing like a king in jeans and a dark shirt with the sleeves rolled up, smiled at her. He had a very nice smile and, indeed, a very nice face. Eva felt herself blushing, and hope the sunburn hid it.

"It is an honour to meet you at last, Miss Kresk," he said, "I have heard many things about you."

"Good things," Alvie chipped in, noticing the look Eva was giving her. "Complimentary things, I promise."

"Thank you your, ah, supreme majesty," she said, and he winced.

"Oh," said Alvie, "and he doesn't like airs and graces."

"I respect that completely, your holy magnificence," Eva said, and T'Challa smiled. "You got some nice rainforests here, if you don't mind me saying."

"I would be happy to show you them - that is, if Alvie does not mind," T'Challa added.

"I prefer nature from a distance," said Alvie, "but by all means, you two go and count trees or whatever it is people do outside without me. I'm sure it'll be very roman- OUCH!" she yelped, rubbing her arm where Eva had punched her.

"Thank you, O High Lord of All," Eva said, "I'll see you around."

"I shall leave you both to reacquaint, then," T'Challa said, bowing his head and waving a hand at the Dora Milaje. They followed him off of the rooftop, leaving the two Americans alone.

"So," said Alvie, "you break up with your boyfriend, an actual superhero, and the next thing ya do is start flirting with another superhero who also happens to be a king. I admire your ambition."

"Shut up," said Eva, "I am a gardener, y'know. I genuinely want to have a look at the rainforests."

"Sure ya do." Alvie grabbed her hand and hauled her away down into the building. "Admire the local wildlife in its natural habitat, and all that."

"I swear to God, Kennings, I will punch you again if you don't shut your mouth right now," Eva warned her. "You got that?"

"Loud and clear," Alvie grinned, pulling a security card on a lanyard out from under her dress and using it to scan them both in. "But how awesome is this place? The technology here is insane, they're two decades ahead of mainstream Western stuff. They keep sending me interns from the university, and they're so smart I feel genuinely threatened."

"What d'you actually do here, Al?" Eva asked.

"Lotsa stuff. Mostly I work on neuromechanics, translating brain activity into language commands, but whatever T'Challa needs I do my best to achieve. Experiments on the properties of vibranium, biotech, super-secret stuff I can't tell you about, non-binary based software... things like that."

"Super-secret stuff, huh?" Eva asked with interest. "What's that, then?"

"Telling you would defeat the point," Alvie said, now unlocking the door to a suite of rooms that could only be hers. There were clothes everywhere, nothing was where it should be, and yet you got the impression there was some kind of order to it all that only Alvie could understand. Eva drifted over to her bedside table, where there was a small pile of books, a Prince record and a couple of photos. One was unmistakeably of a young Alvie, no more than three or four years old sat on the hip of a large, elderly black woman with her hair in pigtails and a banana-wide smile on her face. Alvie, that was. Not the woman. There was another of Alvie and Eva, which made the gardener very happy, and one more of her friend and what she assumed was the infamous boyfriend, who Alvie said was currently "on a retreat somewhere nearby", and declined to explain further. They looked cute together, though. Not quite as cute as Eva and Alvie did in their own photograph, but not bad at all.

"How's New York?" Alvie asked her, picking up Eva's rucksack that had been left by the door and emptying it onto the sofa-bed. "And your Vision? You said a while back he was a bit... depressed."

Her Vision. She would have to tell him that. "It's all a bit... wobbly," she confessed. "I'm not really up at the HQ that much anymore. I think Vision prefers coming round mine, anyway. It's an escape."

"Are the Avengers even still a thing?"

"Your guess is as good as mine. I just hope nobody tries to take over the world in the foreseeable future," Eva said heavily, sitting down on the edge of Alvie's bed. "Stark's around more than ever, too. They're all bloody miserable. I hate it."

"Right," said Alvie, "because normally you're a proper ray of sunshine." She ducked the pillow Alvie threw at her head. "Can I show you my labs?"

"Sure," said Eva, "I'm sure they'll be fascinating."

Alvie missed the sarcasm completely.

The labs were massive and yet still seemed overfull, with fancy equipment and young, beautiful Wakandan scientists who talked quickly and cleverly and seemed to hang on Alvie's every word. She waved them away and escorted Eva into her own private lab, which had workshop tables and monitors lining the walls and a paperwork desk in the middle, near to what looked like a massive refrigerator crossed with a test tube.

"What's that?" Eva asked, pointing at it. It was made of glass, but it had frosted over so completely that she didn't have a hope of seeing inside.

"Super-secret stuff," Alvie said, knocking on the futurist construction and making it clang. "I'm monitoring it for a friend of T'Challa's."

"It's not gonna explode, is it?" Eva asked cautiously.

"Not unless you piss it off, no."

"Cool. What are the screens for?"

"The left wall connects to the servers I use for running algorithms. That one's research. This one's Athena stuff. The one at the table is for monitoring Bu – uh - super-secret stuff. This one's for funny cat videos. The ones up there are connected to all the surveillance footage in the building. I watch movies on that one over there."

After her brief tour of the labs, which involved many long words Eva did not know the meaning of anyway, Alvie took her into a communal kitchen-dining area which smelt strongly of spicy cooking. With her powers of deduction, Eva traced this back to the bubbling gumbo pot sat on the stove, and her stomach made an appreciative noise as Alvie stirred it.

"You seem happy here," Eva said, switching on the kettle to make herself a cup of tea.

"Thanks," said Alvie, "I'm actually okay. I'm safe here, and I can still work as Athena and as a scientist. T'Challa's good company, and the university thinks I'm important and gets me to do lectures there all the time. And I'm close by to my boyfriend, which is nice, even if I don't really see him much. You like okra, right?"

"Al, I like literally anything and everything you cook. Don't ask stupid questions like that."

"In that case," said Alvie, "we'll eat and then engage in friendshippy activities such as bitching about things and people neither of us like and watching crap films in silence for the rest of the day, and I'll let you go on your jungle date with the king and my employer tomorrow while I'm working."

"How about we bitch while talking over the top of crap films?" Eva suggested, and Alvie gave her a thumbs up as she added some kind of spice to the pot. "Also, it's not a date."

"You said that way too late for it to be true," Alvie said sagely, "if you haven't engaged in amorous activities by the time you catch your plane Sunday night, I shall be shocked and disappointed."

"I hate you," Eva mumbled.

" _Je t'aime aussi, ma chérie_."

Lying in bed (or sofa-bed) that night, after having silently given thanks for air-conditioning, Eva called Vision. "Wakanda's great," she told him, "Alvie's doing amazing over here."

"Send her my love," Vision replied, "how about you? Please, do not get heatstroke."

"I'm fine," she assured him, "that king dude's taking me out to see the jungle tomorrow. The flora here's meant to be unlike anywhere else, we learnt about it in college. Something about the natural minerals in vibranium mines caused mutations into completely unique species. How cool is that? I'm gonna try and get a cutting for my apartment back home, maybe something for the allotment on the roof, too. How's Rachel Carson?"

"As delightful as ever. You know you asked me to check your emails for you while you were away?"

"It's not a holiday unless you ignore all responsibilities, V."

"Yes, well - there is one from the New York City Parks and Recreation department. There has, apparently, been an area of Central Park left in a state of ruin ever since the Chitauri attack and -"

Eva sat up in bed. "Oh, my god," she said. "Hang on. Let me process this." She took a deep breath. "Okay, carry on. I'm calm."

"They would like you to be the chief architect in redesigning -"

"HOLY CRAP!" she screamed, and Alvie ran in from the next room with a baseball bat.

"Where's the fire?" she yelled, and Eva waved a hand.

"It's good! I'm good!" she said, getting up to jump up and down on the bed. "Vision says he loves you, by the way."

"Aw, I love him too. Not that I know him particularly well, but -"

"Alvie loves you too," Eva said into the phone.

"I heard. Congratulations, Eva."

"This," she said, bouncing up and down on the squishy mattress, "is the best thing that has ever happened to me. No - second best, after meeting you. No - third best, after meeting Alvie. I'm gonna design part of the most famous park in the world, V!" She dropped down onto her butt. "Oh, jeez. What if I do terrible, and I get exiled from New York forever, and I have to move to Cleveland where nobody knows me or my shame?"

"Whatever you do," Vision said, "I have no doubt it will be exceptional. Now get some rest, and on no account are you to think about this or any other form of work until you return to American soil."

"Yes, sir. Love you," she said.

"I love you, too."

She hung up, and conveyed the news to Alvie. "This is... amazing. This is way too good for me."

"Nothing is too good for you, Eva," Alvie said. "Not even the king of Wakanda."

"Let it go, dude. Let it go."

 **A/N since there isn't a Christmas chapter this year, enjoy Eva's adventures in Wakanda instead. I've had this saved in the notes on my phone for** ** _ages,_** **so it's nice to finally release it into the wild. Also, everyone else in my flat has gone home since term finished yesterday, but for some reason I decided to stay for another TWO DAYS. This might be what severs the last tenuous link to my sanity. This afternoon I roasted sweet potato for lunch, dropped it on the floor when I took it out of the oven and screamed. I'm either losing it, or very emotionally invested in sweet potato. Possibly both.**


	89. Chapter 89: Wakanda II

"That's a Kapok tree, right?" Eva asked, scrambling up the sloping forest floor to get a closer look at the massive trunk. "It's bigger than I thought I would be."

T'Challa followed her up with impossible lithe grace. His movements were oddly cat-like, in fact; she got the impression he would land on his feet no matter where or from which height he was dropped. "It is indeed," he said.

"And the ones all around it are mahogany. I'm amazed you've got any left, what with the demand for the wood."

"My people have great respect for the environment," her companion explained, "and not so much for corporations seeking to exploit it."

"Good for you," she said vaguely. "Hope you don't mind me saying, your almighty sovereignty, but you don't act much like a king."

"My father filled the role much better than I ever could," T'Challa admitted, twisting a heavy silver ring around his finger. "I am not suited to politics."

"I'd say that's a good thing for a king to be," Eva replied, continuing up the jungle path. "Can I make a suggestion, though?"

"Of course."

"Build a damn road to this place from the city, preferably by the time I leave. Helicopters are terrifying and evil."

T'Challa laughed. "This is a sanctuary," he said, "making it easily accessible would somewhat defeat the point. Besides, Wakanda would much rather remain difficult to navigate."

"Right," said Eva, "mind you, being next door to Mugabe would put anyone off talking to the neighbors, I guess. I got the impression that you're not really eager to improve your international relations, huh? Getting permission to travel here was a nightmare - Alvie ended up getting written permission from you, right? That made me feel important."

"It makes it easier to maintain our tribes' integrity. If it were not for the UN attack, then -"

" _Wo ke o_!"

T'Challa grabbed her waist and pulled her aside as a coconut plummeted from the leafy ceiling at terminal velocity, landing with a think precisely where Eva had been standing half a second ago.

 _I just avoided death by coconut_ , she thought vaguely, and then became aware of the king of Wakanda's arms still steady around her.

"Are you alright?" he asked her, concern etched into every line of his extremely good-looking face. On the one hand, Eva was recently out of her first long-term relationship, and wasn't entirely sure where she stood with Sam. On the other... well, he was a king. It would certainly be something to tick off the bucket list.

"Never better," she said, steadying herself by placing her hands on his shoulders. "Thank you."

"That is the first time you have not spoken to me as a king," T'Challa said. Now she was safe, he was smiling again.

"I was distracted," she said.

"What by, may I ask?"

"The trees," Eva replied, "they're very interesting." She leant in closer. "Lovely eyes."

"The trees?"

"What?"

"Sorry?"

"You sure you can't stay any longer?" Alvie whined, grasping Eva's hands as they waited for the helicopter to gear up. "I miss you somethin' awful."

"I'll be back next year," Eva told her, "cross my heart. But I need to go home, and see my cat, and rebuild a bit of Central Park." She pulled Alvie into a hug. "I'm happy you're happy."

"Me too," Alvie mumbled, gripping her tightly. "Have you got all your tree seeds?"

"Yep." They released each other, and T'Challa stepped forward. Eva found she could not look him in the eye without blushing. "Thanks for having me, your highness."

"It was my pleasure, Miss Kresk," the king replied, kissing her cheek. Out of the corner of her eye, Eva saw Alvie mouth "I told you so". "I wish you the very best in your endeavours."

"Um. You too."

She climbed into the helicopter and waved goodbye to her friend as they took off, then tried to turn her brain off for the rest of the flight. Before she knew it she was back at the tiny Wakandan airport and the Dora Milaje escorted her straight past security and onto the plain. Soon she would be back in New York, with its own rainforest of concrete and glass. She loved the jungle, but it was vast and untameable; in the city, green spaces were as precious as emeralds in rock. That was where she belonged, that was where she could work. A flower growing out of the sidewalk was all the more beautiful because of where it came from.

She made the executive decision not to tell anybody that she had kissed the Black Panther and king of Wakanda. Otherwise, she would never hear the end of it.

 **A/N never did I expect to love Eva Kresk as much as I do. Also, all of you are pretty great too.**


	90. Chapter 90 (and a message)

"Okay," said Eva, "now pay attention, because this part's complicated." She waited for Vision to nod before continuing. "You put a spare cup _here,_ and then you pull this lever _here,_ and then you turn that dial over _there_ until it goes like _this,_ and then you get the first cup and you hold it _here_ and pull _that –_ pull it."

Vision pulled it.

"And then you get an Americano," she finished. "See? Wasn't that boring and monotonous? Now imagine doing it five hundred times a day."

"Now I am beginning to comprehend your hatred of coffee," Vision said as she wound down the machine and poured the cup of java down the drain. It was late, the coffee shop was closed and cleaned, and Eva's best friend had, although she couldn't imagine why, expressed an interest in her day job.

"Madness is doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different result," she told him. "What I'm expecting is some gratitude for my work, and do I ever get it? Nope."

"I'm grateful for you."

"You don't count," she replied. "You're a special case."

"Thank you."

"Don't mention it." She hopped up onto the counter, swinging her legs to and fro. "I think I've got my initial design worked out for Central Park."

"Oh?"

"I want to make it, like, a peace garden type thing," she explained, gesturing vaguely in an attempt to build the idea out of air with her hands. "With rocks and a little pool and stuff, with lilies and not too bright colors and lots of greenery. I might see if I can find an artist who'll do a statue as a, um, memorial, sorta, to all the people who died in the Battle of New York. I think, after the Accords and all that, people need a little peace."

Vision smiled. "You have a very kind soul, Eva Kresk."

"Shush," she said, "anyone would think of that. Actually making the damn thing's gonna be the hard part."

"You are also an excellent gardener."

"Thank you. Now show me how to make Americano."

Vision picked up two cups and, in a flurry of maroon and the occasional shimmer of green as his hand passed through the metal machine, made the coffee in a probably record-breaking time. Then he remembered she was there, hesitated, and then slowly and deliberately knocked the mug over, spilling it everywhere.

"Whoops," he said, slowly. "I did not mean to do that. I think you should stick to being a barista."

Eva folded her arms. "Are you trying not to make me feel rubbish?"

"No," said Vision, guiltily.

"You're an idiot," she sighed, chucking a dishcloth at his head. He caught it with ease. "Clean your mess up."

"Yes, Eva."

"And don't let Mr G see you do that, or he'll be replacing me with you faster than you can say chai latte."

"No, Eva."

 **A/N instead of the usual dumb author's note, I wanted to both update you a little on my life and explain why Eva, Vision, and this fic all mean so much for me (because they kinda do). So feel free to not read this, because it gets a bit sad/deep and oversharing-y. Anyway:**

 **So I've always been a bit of a mess. It's my USP. But recently I've been even more of a mess than normal, and after going to see a psychiatrist it turns out I was emotionally abused for quite a few years throughout school, which has left me with PTSD that crops up in the forms of the classic anxiety and depression, but also a paranoia that I am completely rubbish at everything I do and also that everyone hates me and are just pretending not to for some sort of extended practical joke. I also got into a bad habit of not ever telling anyone this until about two months ago, so it's all been bottled up and repressed until it came bursting out in a big dam of EMOTION AND TEARS AND MORE EMOTION. Don't worry about me, though; I'm about to enter into a life of antidepressants and therapy, and have no doubt that I'll probably fine. My mental health isn't, directly, the point I'm trying to make.**

 **So imagine 2015 me going to see AoU for the first time, convinced that I'm worthless and inadequate and having never told anyone about it, and in the film there's this perfect being that gets made, a god-level dude with a cape and a laser forehead, and his defining characteristic isn't that he's powerful, or purple, or the laser forehead, but that he's** ** _kind._** **He has an unassailable faith in humanity. You know the lines.** ** _"There is grace in their failings. I think you miss that... A thing isn't beautiful because it lasts. I think you miss that. It is a privilege to be among them."_** **And, I kid you not, hearing that was the first time I felt like I wasn't a waste of space.**

 **Additionally, I get the idea for coffee run: the usual coffee shop scenario, but with a revolving cast of characters, so everyone gets to see their favourite. Eva was made just to fill the space of a barista who doesn't like coffee or superheroes having to deal with both on a regular basis, because that's always funny. I needed someone bitter enough to carry a comedy dialogue. She wasn't meant to be anything important, but then, weirdly, a lot of people start reading the fic. Like, way more than I expected. And they actually like Eva, so I give her a little more space to be herself, and in her I put the part of me that resonated most strongly with the character of Vision; the conviction of worthlessness. And yet** ** _people still liked her._** **And the more I wrote, the more it felt like catharsis and therapy and all that.**

 **I think the reason Eva's popular is that the vast majority of the people who read this are teenage girls and young women, like her, like me, who struggle with a lot of stuff and don't really talk about it, who need a 6'3 maroon android man to come along and point out what they're too blinded to see. That they matter.**

 **With every view, with every follow and favourite and comment that was left, my faith in humanity, and by extension myself, got a little bit more affirmed. So if you're reading this, thank you. I still don't think my writing's any good and I still don't understand what made Coffee Run explode, but it did, and thank you so much. I love you, whether you want me to or not.**

 **TL;DR: this fic saved my life a bit which is pretty awesome, all things considered. This A/N is longer than the chapter itself. I'll shut up now. X**


	91. Chapter 91: The Sanctum Santorum

"Kresk!"

Eva paused with one arm down the sleeve of her jacket. "Yes, Mr G?" she yelled back.

"You got a minute left on the clock," her boss shouted back at her, and she scowled. "I need you to run a delivery for me. Some guy called in from Bleecker Street and promised a big bonus if we could bring it to him."

Eva turned around and immediately had a hotbox shoved into her hands. "Of course, Mr G," she sighed. "I'm sure I can get to Greenwich Village in less than a minute."

"Well, it's on your way home anyway. Hurry up before it gets cold."

Eva had used her bike to get to work that day, and by the time she had struggled into her leathers it had already extended beyond the end of her shift by a good two minutes. _I bet I won't get paid overtime, either_ , she thought, a glum expression settling onto her face beneath the visor of her helmet.

At least she knew her way around the Village well, having gone to college inside it and living just round the corner in a far less gentrified, although still eye-wateringly expensive, area. Bleecker Street was particularly familiar to her, as she had been chucked out of more nightclubs and bars along that road than she cared, or indeed was able to remember.

177a, the place she was delivering to, was a large and imposing building with a funny squiggly eye thing taking the place of the top window. When Eva rang the doorbell, she could hear the muffled sounds of twanging oriental music playing beyond the door.

The door opened by itself. _Of course it does,_ Eva thought. She had a feeling that she knew where this was going.

It opened onto a wide reception room flanked by a dark wood balcony that curled into an ornate staircase, which she climbed more out of resignation than curiosity. The air had a strange, charged feel to it, the same kind of sensation she had felt after a lightning storm. "Up here," a distant, faintly familiar voice called. She plodded onwards, heavy boots clomping against the rich rugs.

The hallway she was following led into a lofty, museum-like room so large that it couldn't possibly have fitted in the cramped Manhattan Building. She could hear sparking noises coming from one corner, as though somebody had set off a firework in the highly flammable room, and wove her way between the pillars of glass cases to get to it while not paying even the slightest amount of attention to the curious things inside them.

The source of the noises also appeared to be emitting a bright orange light. Sparks were bouncing off of the walls, and Eva, who had good survival instincts by this point, cleared her throat loudly before getting any closer. The commotion stopped immediately and the Strange guy, in every sense of the word, who had been into the shop a couple times before with a smile.

"Eva!" he exclaimed. "I was hoping it would be you."

She held out the coffee. "Three sixty," she said, "twenty bucks delivery fee."

"What? Really?"

She stared at him in even silence until he gave in and passed a handful of bills over to her. "You found your way in okay?"

"Yep."

"You're not freaked out by my home at all?"

"Nope."

"What," he said, "really?"

Eva shoved the money into her pocket and folded her arms. "Lemme guess," she said, "you're a wizard. You've saved the world so well that we didn't even know it was in trouble. You've got a magic cape that lets you fly, and a ring that you use to travel in time, and a necklace that can teleport you anywhere in the world. You're lonely and noble. You've got a tragic past. Your one true love spurned you, and now you're an isolated hero. How did I do?"

Strange raised an eyebrow. "Close," he said, "but no cigar. You got the powers of the necklace and the ring mixed up."

"Oh, well I'm so sorry," she sneered. Strange, to his credit, chuckled.

"You know, I should probably give this up," he said, holding up the espresso cup. "It's not good for me and I've got some of the best tea in the world here. Care to try some?"

"Is it free?" Eva asked.

"Only for you."

"In that case," she said, "yes, please."

She followed him over to a small table, where a clay jug and matching handle-less cups stood. "So you're a wizard," she said, "like Dumbledore or Gandalf?"

"Neither," he replied, "and I prefer sorcerer. It's got more of a ring to it, don't you think?"

"Hmm," she shrugged, and took the cup he offered her. It looked like green tea, but smelled sweeter. She took a sip and was struck by the softness of the taste, although it must have been brewing for ages. It was faintly spiced, had a hint of elderflower, and reminded her of early autumn sun falling on city sidewalks.

"Nice?"

"Nice," she agreed, swallowing her mouthful only to take another.

"May I ask how you managed to be as astute as to the nature of my identity?"

"I'm cursed," she said. "I'm a magnet for capes."

"My condolences."

"Thanks. I'm just not impressed anymore, y'know?" she downed the tea and set the empty cup down. "My best friend shoots lasers out of his damn forehead, for chrissakes. I'm numb! I have no wonder left in my soul. I mean, if Harry friggin' Potter walked past me I'd probably just have a go at him for getting Sirius Black killed and move on with my life."

"Again," said Strange, "I'm not that sort of magician."

She ignored him as she started to get into her stride. "It's not fair! I want to feel excitement about this crap, but I can't! I've got Superhero Stockholm Syndrome! What'll it take, huh? What'll it take to make me feel again? Weird magic sex? I'm desperate! Something! _Anything!_ "

"I mean," he said, "if you're asking…"

They looked at each other.

%

"I have a question," Stephen said, afterwards. Eva was hopping around the room, harvesting her clothes so she could wear something other than her shame. "Your scars – how did you get them?"

"Fell off my bike," she told him, looking for her bra. "On purpose, though. I had to avoid getting t-bar'd by a Mack Truck somehow."

"You've got tattoos," Stephen said. "But you didn't try to cover the scars up. Why?"

She jumped up to retrieve her pants, which had mysteriously draped themselves over the chandelier. "They don't bother me," she said. "They're cool markers for a cool story." She sat down on the edge of the bed and started pulling her socks on. "This is about your hands, right? You were in a car crash, or something. It was on the news."

Although he had had them covered with leather gloves, she could now see that the doctor's hands were lined and marbled with so much scar tissue that there was no unblemished skin remaining. "Not such a cool story," he said.

"You want them to go back to how they were before."

"Yes. No. Maybe. I don't… I don't know."

She paused, arms still trapped beneath her shirt. "See," she said, "that's why. I'm trying to be as little like what I used to be as possible. Like a butterfly. Whereas you're more like a… a… rock."

Stephen stared. "A rock," he repeated, slowly.

"Oh, shut up." She got to her feet. "We shall never speak of this again."

"Obviously. I don't think either of us are particularly proud of this."

"Amen. And thanks for the tip – which was for the _coffee_ ," she said sternly, jabbing a finger in his direction. " _Just_ the coffee. Nothing else, alright?"

"Alright."

"Excellent. I'll see myself out."

Eva, wait –"

She looked over her shoulder at him. "What?"

"Thanks."

"For…?"

"Telling me who I am – what I am. I need reminding, sometimes."

"You, Stephen," she said, "need to get out more. But _not_ with me," she added, as a caveat. "Thanks for the tea. Bye."

"See you later."

"I sure as hell hope not!"

 **A/N this was fun to write, and now I feel like I'm back in gear to write a Spidey chapter when Homecoming comes out. Yay! Also - thank you so much for all the support I've received since last chapter, I was so overwhelmed and still can't quite believe it. Meds and therapy are starting to properly kick in now and I'm fairly more sane, now. I'm not very good at talking about that kind of stuff, so just know that your words all meant so much to me. As cliche as it sounds, it's true. I cried. Many times. Ahem. Thanks.**


	92. Chapter 92 (Homecoming SPOILERS)

**WARNING Spider-Man: Homecoming spoilers ahead. The actual Spidey chapter is going to be the next update, I promise. I just had to do this one first, since it was too good to skip.**

Eva was lolling about on Vision's bed, eating expensive chocolates gifted to Stark Industries and watching Tony's press conference that was happening downstairs on his television.

"How's the diet going?" Vision asked, looking up from the book that Eva had lent him (it was about bees.) He was sat next to her, a prim contrast to her sprawled limbs.

"It's a cheat day," Eva said, licking the toffee from her fingers. "Cheat week. Month. Whatever. What's this supposed to be about, then?"

"Originally it was to announce the Spider-Man joining the Avengers –"

"You mean the _kid?!_ "

"- But he turned Mr Stark down," Vision continued hurriedly, before Eva exploded. "That was only a few moments ago, however, so they will need to think swiftly."

"How d'you know this?" Eva asked, rolling over and resting her chin on Vision's knee.

"I… may have had a live audio feed sent to me via FRIDAY," Vision mumbled, blushing his indigo blush. "She owed me a favor, you see, and the room next to mine was meant to be the one that would be taken."

"You're adorable," Eva grinned, reaching up and pinching his cheek. "Does that mean you know what they're going to say to the press instead, then?"

"They're discussing it as we speak. It sounds like –" Vision broke off midsentence, his face stretching into one of the most delighted smiles Eva had ever seen him wearing. "Oh, how _wonderful._ "

"What? What's wonderful? What's happening?"

"He's finally doing it," Vision continued, and clapped his hands together. "I wondered how long it would take him."

"Take him to do _what_?"

Vision nodded over her shoulder, and she turned around to look back at the television. Although it was on mute, she could figure out what was going on from the way that Stark was kneeling down in front of Pepper with a ring on his hand, Happy stood behind him and positively vibrating with glee.

"OH MY GOD!" Eva shrieked. "OH MY GOD! OH, MY _GOD_!" She jumped off of the bed, spun around twice and grabbed Vision by the knitted sleeve of his jumper. "Oh, my God. Can we go see them? Can we? Can you fly and give me a piggy back so we get there faster?"

"Eva," said Vision, "breathe."

"OH MY GOD THEY'RE GETTING MARRIED I'M GONNA CRY I CAN'T CRY I HAVE SO MUCH EYELINER ON VISION OH MY GOD I CAN'T BELIEVE IT WE NEED TO GO AND SEE THEM RIGHT. GOD DAMN. NOW."

Half an hour later the press conference had finished and neither Eva nor Vision had calmed down. As soon as the newly betrothed couple walked into the ante-room they were bombarded with congratulations and hugs.

"Can I do flowers?" Eva asked, after about two hundred and forty-three questions, "oh, please let me do the flowers."

"You're very enthusiastic about this for someone who supposedly hates me," Stark said, folding his arms.

"I'm only excited for Pepper," Eva replied tartly. "Also, greatly concerned for her wellbeing. Seriously, Miss Potts – divorce is very socially acceptable nowadays."

"Eva!" Vision exclaimed, shocked and appalled. But Pepper only laughed.

"It's fine," she said, waving a hand that glittered with a diamond.

"No, it's not!"

"Hush, Tony," said Pepper, and to Eva's amazement he actually did shut up. "Now if you don't mind, I actually have some work to do. Nice to see you, Eva."

"You too."

Pepper gave Tony a quick kiss and ran off, a feat that should have been impossible in the stiletto heels that she was wearing. The other three watched her leave, each with the same giddy smile.

"I'm glad you finally found the courage to do it, sir," Vision said. "I have been waiting since 2008."

"As has Happy." Tony clapped his hands and rubbed them together. "Right – champagne? Champagne."

"Champagne," Eva agreed. "Expensive champagne."

"Don't push it, coffee girl."

%

"I'M GETTING MARRIED!" Tony yelled.

"YOU'RE GETTING MARRIED!" Rhodey, Happy and Eva chorused back at him, as Vision swept up the broken champagne bottle glass.

"Can we stop drinking now, please?" the synthezoid asked, setting down the dustpan and brush and reaching up to lift Eva down off of the coffee table. "It's two in the morning and we have a meeting with a UN representative tomorrow."

"Hey," said Tony, "listen to Mr Boring. I can't believe I'm the first person in the world to create a true ABP. An Artificial Boring Person."

Rhodey giggled so hard he fell off the couch. "ABP," he wheezed, clutching at his sides. "That's… that's really good…"

"FRIDAY," Vision said aloud, "please sort out these three while I take Eva back to my room."

"I'll make them some coffee," the melodic voice said over the speakers, and Tony blew a raspberry at the ceiling.

"AND THERE'S MRS BORING."

Eva waved goodbye as Vision carried her out of the rec room. "Viz'," she slurred, "I got bubbles in my nose."

"How exciting."

"No. 'S weird. We nearly there yet?"

"Almost," he replied.

Eva twisted around in his arms, grabbing his neck and pulling herself up so that they could look each other in the eye. "Are you sad?" she asked him, trying to arrange her face into a serious expression. This was difficult, since it had gone numb about ten minutes ago.

"Why would I be sad, Eva? This is a happy day."

"Because," she began, and paused to burp. "'Scuse me. Because Spideyboy isn't moving in, and if Tony gesmarried then he'll move _out_ , and Wanda's gone and I know you liked her, an' – an' I don't want you to be lonely because you're my best friend and I love you." To illustrate this, she headbutted him gently on the nose.

He offered a small, tight smile in return. "I love you too," he said.

"But are you lonely?"

He pushed open his bedroom door and carried her to the bed. "Sometimes," he said, "when you're at work, at Mr Stark is away, and Colonel Rhodes is in physical therapy, it gets a little… quiet. Oh, Eva. Please don't cry."

She wiped her nose on his bedsheet. "But it's _sad,_ " she wailed, "and I don't like it."

Vision patted her on the head. "Um," he said, "there have been greater tragedies. Would you like a tissue."

"'Es please." She took the handkerchief and used it to dab at her smudged eyeliner before blowing her nose with the sound of a foghorn. "I get lonely too. Is a good thing, though. Is a… a…" she snapped her fingers, trying to find the right word. "Nope. I'll remememember inna morning. Nightie night."

She was out cold before her head hit the pillow.

The next morning, Eva woke up to an empty room and a resounding headache. Vision had left a note, explaining his absence as a need to be the only clear-headed person greeting the UN representative, and Eva turned it over and scribbled a message of her own before pulling her clothes on and leaving.

 _Human,_ it read. _That's the word. It's a human thing. I'm proud of u x_

 **A/N I'd like to apologise for any typos/spelling/grammar mistakes because I literally only got back from seeing Homecoming two hours ago and wrote this in a haze of post-film delight. To be honest, I'll be surprised if it makes sense at all. I'M JUST SO HAPPY PEPPER'S BACK.**

 **Oh, and y'all should go have a peek at the cover of this fic because HOLY MOLY, THAT'S ACTUAL ART OF EVA AND VISION! It was done by the wonderful and amazing Rowan, who you can find on tumblr and twitter with the user handle electricgale. Isn't it brilliant? It's so brilliant, right?**


	93. Chapter 93: Spider-Man

Eva had been shot. She had been kidnapped. She had seen Black Widow before her morning coffee. At this point, reason should have dictated that she wouldn't be scared of _anything._ But no. Here she was, alone in the closed coffee shop, brandishing a mop at the top left corner of the window.

"Leave!" she yelled. "We're closed! Go away! Bog off!"

The spider blinked at her: it was big enough for Eva to see all eight eyes. Then it moved slightly further into the glass, away from the door and closer to her. Eva screamed.

It would be so much easier if she could kill it – just one shoe, flung from the other side of the room, and it would all be over. But then she would have to deal with a dead spider and that was, if possible, even worse. Its unholy amount of legs, all curled up and sticking in the air… _urgh._ And she was too proud to call and ask Vision for help.

She screamed again, just to get it out of her system, and got a glass from behind the counter along with a flyer for some improve comedy group from the community action board that was overtaken by advertisements for yoga retreats and yuppie art projects.

"Alright, Shelob," she said, having taken a deep and steeling breath. "Time for you to leave."

She sidled through the shadows, crept up to the window, and leapt out, slamming the glass over the spider with a triumphant yelp. She slid the flyer under the glass, kicked the door open and flung the spider, receptacle and lid as far out into the night as she could, slamming the door behind her just as she heard it shattering in the distance and someone on the sidewalk screaming as the arachnidian horror was released into the wilds once more. With the beast vanquished, Eva slumped against a table with a sigh of relief. Finally, she was done being terrorised by –

 _THADUNK._

She shrieked as a large red and blue thing slammed into the window and instinctively grabbed a mop again.

"Sorry," groaned the amazing Spider-Man, and fell onto the sidewalk. Eva swore loudly and walked onto the street.

"Hey," she said, poking him in the ribs with the mop. "You okay?"

"Uh-huh," he said, rolling onto his back with another moan. "Miscalculated the angle of the swing, that's all. I'm Spider-Man, by the way. Hello."

"Thought you hang around in Queens?" Eva asked. "Not, y'know, fall down in Manhattan."

"Yeah," said Spider-Man, "I thought I'd come and have a look around. Ouch."

"Do you want some ice for your, uh, everything?"

"Yes please," he said, staggering to his feet. "Hey. You know the Avengers, right? I saw you getting drunk with them in the newspaper a while back."

Eva held the door to the coffee shop open for him. "Thank you for reminding me of that," she said.

"I'm friends with them too! Mr Stark, anyway. Well, not friends. Colleagues. Associates."

Eva hopped over the counter to grab some ice. "How old are you, kid?" she asked, wrapping a towel around a few handfuls.

"I – I'm not a kid," said Spider-Man, putting on a gruff voice. Eva raised an eyebrow as she leant over and handed him the ice. "There's a reason people don't call me Spider-Boy."

"Whatever," she said. "You can take that with you, if you want. It must be past your bedtime now anyway."

"I'm not a kid!" he protested again, this time in the much higher voice he had been speaking in beforehand.

"Never said you were," she replied brusquely. "I have to close up now, so clear off before I trap you in a latte glass and throw you into the street."

"What?"

"Never mind."

 **A/N okay, so when I was a kid I used to love spiders (like, a nest hatched in our back garden and I spent an afternoon watching hundreds of baby spiders crawl everywhere with utter delight) but then I made friends with someone in high school who had hardcore arachnophobia and now I can only handle either really really big ones (they're cuddly) or really really little ones (too small to be scary). Anything in between is devil spawn. Also, did y'all like Homecoming? My favourite part by far was Zendaya's character. I long to reach her level of sardonicism.**


	94. Chapter 94: Happy

"Afternoon, Happy. The usual?"

Stark's former bodyguard took a deep, dramatic breath. "No," he said. "I am not defined by my relationship with Tony. I have a personality entirely independent of him. I am entitled to do things for myself, by myself. I would like… the espresso protein shake."

"Please," said Eva.

"You're welcome."

"No, _you're_ supposed to say –" she began, and gave up. "So you've been going to therapy, then?"

"How did you know that?" Happy snapped. "Did Tony tell you? Did Pepper tell Tony? Who told Pepper? I never told Pepper… is there a security leak somewhere? Is someone tailing me? Are you stalking me?"

"Lucky guess!" she said hastily.

"Yeah, well," said Happy, "in future, don't."

"Don't what?"

"Guess."

"Alright," she muttered, "jeez. My bad."

"Yeah. Your bad. Don't think that just 'cause you're all pally with Tony and the super squad now means you're any better than me. You're not."

"I'm not pally with Tony," she said, switching on the blender. "Why? You jealous?"

He snorted with loud, fake laughter. "No," he said, with exaggerated disgust. "Me? Jealous? Why would _I_ be jealous of _you_? Me and Tony, we got something special. We're practically the same person."

"I thought you were entirely independent of him with your own freedom and agency or whatever," Eva said, pouring the shake into a takeaway cup in the hope that it would discourage the head of security from staying around.

"Don't try and be smart with me," he warned her. "Because you'll lose."

"Sure," she said. "Say, have you ever met Pete up at the Avengers compound? The security guard?"

"I dunno," he said, suspiciously. That being said, everything Happy did carried a trace of suspicion – the man was paranoid enough to make Alex Jones look like a calm and rational man. "Why?"

"I think you two would get along. Six dollars."

"That's extortionate!"

"Yep. Now unless there's anything else I can get you –"

"Nuh-uh," said Happy, "no way. I'm done here. The price was bad enough, but the customer service – appalling. You shall _not_ be receiving my patronage again."

"Until Stark sends you on another errand, right?"

"You shut your mouth, Kresk."

"Right away, Happy. Right away."

 **A/N I cannot BELIEVE it's taken me this long to write a chapter about Happy. I want him to be in Infinity Wars SO bad - never mind Bucky and Loki or the other fan favourites. BRING ME JON FAVREAU PUNCHING GODS IN SPACE.**


End file.
